#willing to make so many sacrifices (not seeing his face) when I know he is COOKING somewhere in LA or MK or London or Faenza or Perth or whe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rcvcgers · 2 months ago

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Rotten Apples, pt. 7

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

part one , part two , part three , part four , part five , part six , part eight , part nine , part ten

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you and caleb work through the week. two domestic moments between you too! will you finally let caleb into your heart?

word count: 9.3k words

warnings: not proofread!

author's note: hi everyone! thank you for waiting so patiently! part 8 will be up shortly!!!! i hope you enjoy <3

content warning: mentions of previous smut, light vulgar language, let me know if i missed anything!

my rotten apples <3 : @militaryapple , @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @young-adult-summer

want to be added to the taglist? click here!

The hum of the aircraft’s engine can’t seem to leave your ears as you step away from the aircraft and down the tarmac. Your backpack bounces off of your body with every step, the gust of air from the airplanes making your hair fly all over the place, the smell of burning fuel stinging your eyes, consuming all other smells from the country’s base. It’s almost overwhelming with how chaotic your close surroundings have become. It leaves you feeling dazed, your bones vibrating against your muscles.

The tingling sensation that courses throughout your body slowly dissipates the further you walk from Caleb’s aircraft. Your eyes remain foxed on his broad shoulders, watching as he navigates you, as well as the other soldiers from his squadron that were told to come, off the tarmac.

Every so often, though, Caleb glances behind his shoulder at you. You catch a glimpse of his violet irises behind his dark aviators, a hint of a smile flashing across his lips before he goes back into his stoic Colonel demeanor.

Every time he does this, your heart speeds up. It thumps inside your chest, the heartbeats joining the vibrations from the heavy aircrafts, before fading away once you leave his line of sight.

For once, you had the chance to see Colonel Caleb in action, in all of his glory. You’ve heard all of the stories of his impressive military career through the grapevine of all the other translators that have helped him out when he was lower ranked.

His reputation was cutthroat. Caleb never hesitated to make a choice, the correct choice, no matter how much blood was shed, although he did try to save as many lives as possible. He isn’t like Colonel Heath who was willing to sacrifice his own men in order to save his ass. Colonel Caleb was also known for how swift and decisive his missions turn out to be.

A patrol that should have taken a week turn outs to be just three days long. A traitor refused to give out information ? Call Colonel Caleb, he’ll make them squeal.

Through the past year, you never even knew it was your Caleb that is the man behind all of the rumors and stories you’ve heard. Life is weird like that, right?

You look away from his back and notice the other groups where your work friends stand. All of the groups come to gather as one with the general at the helm. The soldiers take their leave, though, and leave all of the translators and officers behind. You watch as they leave, their stoic faces remaining as they march in sync. A hand rests itself on the low of your back, your gaze drifting up and to the side, Caleb now by your side.

“Come on, pretty bird,” Caleb’s voice is cheery despite his emotionless face, “we don’t want to be the last ones there, do we?” You shake your head, the new environment now becoming all too real. Caleb guides you through the security personnel, a hard glare from his eyes letting you pass through with no inspection.

Your eyes wander around the inside of the new country’s military office. The Fleet’s uniforms, ones that you are all too used to, are black with white pants whereas the country you’re in wears deep greens and reds with hints of silver rather than the gold you’re used to. Subconsciously, you’ve stayed close to Caleb’s side, either standing right behind him, placing a subtle tap on his back to let him know that you’re there, or standing right at his side with the excuse of being his personal translator to help you get by.

Caleb is quite amused by this. He has to stop himself from looking at you while dealing with paperwork, that has already been filled out, and getting the proper security clearances for the two of you. He likes that you found him to be safe person. You could have run away to any of the other officers and translators but you stuck by his side…maybe the two of you are becoming closer than you think. Caleb is definitely not going to complain about it or point it out because he knows that as soon as he does, you’re going to go back to avoiding him and pushing him away.

It’s a risk that, quite frankly, he isn’t willing to take.

“I need you to ask them something,” Caleb’s voice draws you out from your thoughts. Your anxiety settles inside your stomach, flicking at the breakfast you had that morning. You raise an eyebrow and feel as he pulls you forward. “Ask them where your security clearance badge is.”

“Excuse me,” you begin your conversation with the intimidating woman who sits at the desk.

While you speak to them, Caleb watches from behind. The top of your head floats at the bottom of his vision while the woman sits at the center. He narrows his eyes when her eyes meet his. Her fingers tap against the desk while you explain, to the best of your ability, that you’re going to need to go where he does.

“You see,” you lean in, getting her attention, “the Colonel gets a little cranky when I’m not there with him. He doesn’t trust anyone else other than me and I doubt that you’ll want to cause your higher ups any more trouble, right?” The woman nods. A small smile spreads across your face despite the feeling that someone is watching you weighs on your shoulders. “Great! So you’ll get that for us?”

The woman nods once again and turns to the side. You take a step back and feel your back collide with Caleb’s hard chest. A few of his medals poke into your back. A silent gasp escapes your lips from the sudden contact. You move to walk away but his gloved hand rests itself on your side, holding you there. You don’t dare break away, feeling his chest push into your back with every breath he takes.

The uniformed woman pops back to her desk, badge in hand. She holds it out and Caleb reaches from behind you, plucking it from her fingers. He turns your body and moves you away from the desk.

Many eyes within the office stare at the two of you, all of which belong to the other country. Their eyes are much more darker than yours with no variety in color such as your hues and Caleb’s familiar purples. Their uniforms are pristine with no wrinkles or faults in them; every medal in the formal dress is perfectly aligned, not daring to be crooked.

You always knew that a military career was something you didn’t want for yourself. Who would want a life of rigid routine and the constant reminder that your life is dedicated to a country that is willing to use you to benefit itself?

Then again, you’ve always been on the pessimistic side of things so maybe your way of thinking isn’t a fair way to look at it. Besides, Caleb chose this life. You have to respect his profession, right?

“What did you say?” Caleb asks, his hand slipping to your lower back once again. You don’t look up at him, shrugging in response. “Let me guess,” the two of you slip into an elevator with some of your peers and their officers. Caleb stands behind you, the front of his body pushed up against your backside. He leans down, his mouth grazing the outer shell of your ear, and whispers under the voices of the elevator, “Did you say that I’m a monster and to just give in? Or did you tell her that I simply cannot be reasoned with and have to have you with me at all times, making me look like some kind of psycho?”

“I don’t have to do anything to make you look crazy, Caleb, you are more than capable of doing that on your own,” you quietly retort. Caleb chuckles and draws his head away from yours.

The elevator doors open and you, who are at the front of the pack, quickly rush out, breaking into the room with Caleb hot on your trail. You turn on your heel and your heart pounds in your chest. The man enters your close proximity once again. He wears a dark smile on his face before it vanishes in less than a second. Other officers approach him and steal him away for a conversation, barely glancing at you. A sigh escapes your lips.

You sneak away where the other translators stand and spark up a conversation of your own with them. You pick up on Caleb’s dominating and effortlessly cool voice, the sound lingering on the outskirts of your attention while you smile and laugh with the other translators.

“Do you know what your schedule looks like?” Diana, who stands to your left, asks you. You breathe out a small, hesitant chuckle and scratch the back of your neck.

“I think the Colonel and I are going to be stuck in endless meetings about the Deepspace Tunnel.” It’s the truth, yes, but you also made sure to omit the meeting he was told to attend with the General, one that will have with another country.

What’s the meeting about? You’re unsure. You have trust in Caleb, though, that it’s one for peace and not war.

“You are so lucky to be paired up with him,” Diana sighs. She looks over your shoulder, eyes soft and in a trance. You follow her gaze; she’s looking directly at Caleb. Your ears immediately heat up, cheeks following suit. “He is so cute! I got stuck with Major Wilson. He’s so…old…and so wrinkly…”

Irritation bubbles from within your chest as the other women begin to giggle and fawn over Caleb. You turn your head and rest your chin on your shoulder. Caleb stands tall over the other officers, who are much older and probably shriveled in their age, and he wears an emotionless expression. You can’t read how he’s feeling, only getting the occasional movement of his brows to let you in on his own irritation.

Whenever he shifts in his spot, the women swoon. Diana grabs onto Shiza’s arm when Caleb looks in their direction; his eyes latch onto yours for a brief moment before he turns back away. Shivers run down your spine but the annoyance you feel only grows when Diana claims that he looked at her.

“Put in a good word for me, yeah?” Diana nudges into your side with an oh so obnoxious giggle, a giggle that is like nails on a chalkboard.

Your eyes scan Diana’s face. She’s pretty, yes, but is she really Caleb’s type? No…you don’t think she is. She’s everything you’re not: fake, phony, and makes her eyebrows way too dark and way too round for her face shape. When she smiles, you spot a little black speck tucked between her teeth. Ugh, gross. Did she not check before she left for work? That’s embarrassing.

You fake a smile and fake a laugh, matching her energy, before your face falls serious.

“We are here for work, not pleasure, Diana, let’s act like it.”

The words come out of your mouth sharper than you intended them to be. Your eyes widen and you stare at Diana, who raises an eyebrow at you with a look of shock that you were so careless with your words. How can you hold back, though, when she has Caleb’s image in her mind, her desire for him so open and free for all to see.

You had to say something about it, right?

You clear your throat and tuck your hair behind your ears, avoiding her gaze as well as the others who look at you like you’re a madwoman. You shift out of the group, standing on the outside, while the others shared surprised looks and side eye of your sudden and uncharacteristic outburst.

An awkward silence fills the group. You rock back and forth on your feet, heartbeat prominent in your ears. Before anyone can say anything, the General walks in, cap tucked underneath his arm. Your group turns to him and everyone nods in sync with your hands behind your back and posture straight just like how the Fleet taught you. He smiles at your group, having known to be very nice to the translators and mediators who help him out. His smile is replaced with a scowl when he look at Caleb and the other officers.

“Change of plans. They, somehow, ran out of room. We’ll be at the hotel down the street with the other countries,” his voice is rough and low, definitely a smoker, at least one pack a day. “Be on your best behavior and don’t rack up the bill too high,” he coughs and covers his mouth, turning around before disappearing once again. The General is like that, though. Always to the point and never hears what anyone else has to say, not that there was anything to say about the hotel change.

Your gaze flickers to Caleb’s. He stares at you, the corner of his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. You roll your eyes and look back forward, face scrunching up.

You already know that he has something bizarre planned. It’s inevitable. Caleb likes to surprise you, which is something you learned from the month he left you random gifts on your doorstep, and to be honest, you didn’t know if it you should find enjoyment in his surprises or if you should pack up your life and move back to Linkon.

“I need to figure out which room Caleb is staying in,” you hear Diana’s voice from behind you. You don’t move, not wanting to show that you’re listening in, and slowly inhale. “Maybe the Colonel needs a late night visit.”

Your face contorts. Your nostrils flare, lip curling upward, and your gaze narrows in on the elevator doors. You slowly inhale and exhale, taking deep breaths to try and calm down the sudden onset of anger that floods your body. It is so unusual that you’re reacting so viscerally to another woman wanting to flirt with Caleb.

You could care less about who he does and does not fuck! Okay, maybe fuck isn’t the right word here, but you still shouldn’t care about what he does in his private time. You are the one who made it clear to him that the two of you are acquaintances. You are the one who made for sure he knows that you aren’t interested in him. If anything, Caleb should go after Diana! He should take a peek into whatever it is she has to offer him and indulge himself in the attention he’s receiving.

And you? Well, you can watch whatever show is playing on the hotel’s television with a pint of your favorite ice cream.

I hope I’m not roomed next to either of them. You think to yourself.

A gentle touch lulls you from your inner dialogue. You open your eyes and sigh, looking up at Caleb. His hat is tucked between his arm and side, his hair slightly disheveled but somehow he makes it work, and his eyes are fixed on yours.

It’s just the two of you in the room now, unless you want to count the security cameras that cover every angle of the military’s lobby. It still unsettles you to know that your every move will be watched and every action dissected and broken down, trying to see if there are any underlying motives that you may have.

“Pretty bird…we have to go,” Caleb’s voice is low, soft. The bubbling anger turns into a meek simmer. Your fists unclench, watching as his posture straightens and he places his cap back onto his dark locks.

“Are you doing anything tonight, Colonel?” you ask, knowing damn well that it’s an attempt to get him away from Diana and all of the other translators who want a piece of him.

“What?” Caleb blurts out. He blinks at you, shocked by your sudden question. Your eyes met his and all of the oxygen in his lungs seemed to escape him. He stammered and stuttered, earning an eye roll from you.

“Never mind. Forget I even asked,” you huff out and exit the embassy’s lobby, following behind the other people from Skyhaven who pile into cars.

Caleb, now out of the limbo you’ve thrown him in, takes his place at your side. The last car pulls up and, as fate would have it, it is just the two of you who will be inside. The black car with heavily tinted windows comes to a stop next to the two of you on the curb. Caleb looks down at you, perplexed expression still on his face. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He sighs and watches as one of the soldiers from inside steps out and opens the backseat door.

The drive to the hotel was even more awkward than you imagined. Caleb’s eyes never left the side of you face and he watched you while you watched the outside world pass by.

The capital city looks like it has been stopped in time hundred of years ago. Cobblestone still lines the streets and many of the buildings’ architecture has a gothic look to them with stained glass and sharp pointed arches. Unlike Skyhaven, many of the buildings are built from stone and lime mortar instead of reinforced steel and glass. You love how different the city looks; you wonder if there is history you can learn about the country if you ever find the time to explore between meetings and avoiding Caleb.

“I’m not doing anything tonight,” Caleb speaks. You don’t look back at him, smiling at the images of big and grand courtyards that people sit and eat in so casually.

“Okay,” you hum.

“If you wanted to do something,” he whispers so the driver cannot hear. You shrug.

“It’s fine. I can figure out what to do on my own,” you glance at his reflection in the car window. It’s faint but still there. You watch as his once hopeful face falls. He literally looks like a puppy had been told it’s about to get a bath instead of being promised treats.

“Can we—” Caleb is interrupted by the car stopping. His backdoor opens and he groans. He turns his head back to look at you but you have already left the car, closing the door behind you. His fists clench before he gets out himself, placing his hat back on his head.

Soldiers are lined up along the hotel’s perimeter. They stop passing pedestrians, asking for identification or a hotel key card to prove that they are staying there. Caleb knows that the heightened security is good, especially since you’ll be staying here. He’s going to keep a close eye on you, though, and be waiting outside your door in the morning when you’re ready to take on the long day ahead and he’ll be the last person you see when you go back to your room.

Although, if it were up to him, you’d be joining him in the suite Skyhaven is bound to give him so you’re only a room away instead of a whole different space entirely.

You follow the soldier to the safety of the hotel lobby. You flash your security clearance card to the guards at the door just in case, in which they nod and tell you to move on. The soldier then passes you off to a woman dressed in a neat and form fitting red dress. You smile at her and take the hotel keycard she hands you.

Caleb enters the hotel, blowing off soldiers and other military guards that try to stop him. Once they spot the Colonel insignia on his chest, they back away. His eyes scan the room for you, quickly spotting you just a few feet away. Out of the corner of his eye, though, movement catches his eye.

Professor Lucius crosses his field of vision, heading straight in your direction. Caleb’s blood goes cold.

He watches the professor closely. The bony man moves across the room, going unnoticed, slipping and weaving through the few people inside with ease. His cane hangs from his fingers. It sways back and forth, slowly coming to a halt the closer he gets to you. Caleb’s feet move in your direction, picking up speed.

He can hear your screams from his nightmare. The way you cry out his name, the whines and pleas for someone to put you out of your misery while he is forced to do nothing. He moves in tandem with Professor Lucius, miming his every move.

If he moves to the left, so does Caleb.

If he take a step to the right, so does Caleb.

He can’t let the Professor get to you.

“Your luggage has already been delivered to your room. If you see that anything is missing, please call us and we will do our best to find it for you,” her voice is so soothing and so sweet. You smile at her, replying with a thank you and begin to walk away when Caleb’s fingers wrap around your waist. His fingers dig into your body, the man wanting to touch your skin once again but having to settle for the faint warmth through your clothes.

Your eyes shoot up to his face and you expect to meet his gaze but instead he stares at the woman. She hands him a separate key card and begins to say the same thing she said to you. Caleb, on the other hand, has another idea. He walk you two away, heading straight for the elevator through the near empty hotel lobby. Your gaze darts around, trying to see if anyone notices the way he’s pulled you to his side.

A tall and slender man watches you two. His tiny features send chills down your spine. He wears a brown suit with patches on the elbows, his hair as white as snow, with deep sunken cheekbones. His mere presence leaves you feeling unnerved, your hand finding itself on Caleb’s wrist, hugging his hand tighter to your side. The man gives you a simple wave of his fingers, leaning against his wooden cane. You turn your face away, body now covered in goosebumps.

“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath, being pushed into an empty elevator. The doors are forcefully closed behind him. He reaches to the side with ease and presses a single button. You gulp and look back up at him, wondering what’s going through his mind.

Caleb’s face is blank. His eyes, though, radiate the urgency to keep you safe, to keep you at his side. His heart pounds in his chest. The tips of his ears are pink. His grip on your waist tightens as the Professor’s distinct laugh fills his ears.

But he can’t give into his emotions. His memories of you are on the line if he does.

“Caleb,” you cross your arms over your chest, “what are you doing?”

“Stay with me.”

“What?” an unexpected chuckle leaves your mouth.

“I don’t trust these people. I need to keep you safe. Please just…stay with me,” Caleb’s eyes soften.

“Caleb…I can’t.”

The words hang in the air between you. Your eyes scan Caleb’s face, watching as the muscles underneath his skin twitch. You hold your breath, chest popped out, watching as he closes the distance. His eyes look everywhere but at your own, moving from your eyebrows to your cheeks, memorizing the way your hair falls over your shoulder and the way the jacket hangs from your body. A sigh escapes his lips and he cups one of your cheeks with his left hand. Caleb leans in and presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. You follow suit and reach up to hold his wrist, your thumb grazing over the top of his hand.

“Please…” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours, “I don’t know what I’d do if you get hurt because of me.”

“I’m not going to get hurt, Caleb,” you breathe out. Caleb pushes his face in but you pull back, having him follow you. You shake your head and he sighs, his hands dropping to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes. “I’m going to be okay—”

“You don’t—!” Caleb catches himself. He takes a deep breath and lowers his voice once again. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” you reach both hands to cup his cheeks, “you want to know how I know that?”

Caleb opens his eyes and looks down at you. You can see the wheels in his brain turning. He nods; it’s small yet desperate, his entire sanity clinging onto it. You sigh and run your thumbs back and forth over his cheekbones. His purple irises burn into yours.

“I know I’m going to be safe because you’re here with me.”

It’s the truth. You do feel safe with him, in the sanctity of his arms. To be honest, you feel as if being closer to him, by staying in his room, will only cause more trouble. Maybe some distance will be good, yeah? If anything happens, you have his phone number memorized at this point so you can call him. You know he’ll come running to save you.

The elevator doors open with a ding. The air is heavy around the two of you. Caleb gently squeezes your waist one last time before stepping backwards and out of the elevator. His Colonel comes off his head, his hair messy and slightly sticking outwards. You sigh at his appearance, your heart swooning.

Caleb looks exactly like he did on the first day of high school. He has the same tired expression on his face with his hair disheveled as always. He had just come back from an early morning run to calm his nerves, he told you. The two of you walked side by side along the sidewalk. He carried your backpack while you held his printed out schedule in his hand, comparing it to yours.

It’s memories like these that remind you that you know the Caleb outside of her. You know who he is when she isn’t around, or when anyone is around for that matter. You know the Caleb that everyone loves and adores, the Caleb that they can lean on.

But you know the Caleb that they didn’t get to see. The one that waves to you from the street before his nightly and morning run. The one that spent over an hour helping you with a math problem you couldn’t solve. The one that protected you during dodgeball in freshmen gym class. The one that gave you the first butterfly of your collection as a gift to say sorry.

Caleb was the only one who said sorry to you.

The elevator doors slowly close. Caleb’s face disappears behind the steel doors. You stand in the heavy silence, basking in all of the regret that forms on your chest, weighing you down. The elevator doesn’t move, hanging in its spot. You stare at the panel of buttons, looking at the open door button at the bottom.

You can go after him, chase him down the hallway, beg for him to let you in his warm embrace one last time. You can beg for his forgiveness for being so cold to him. You can ask him to help you with your two bags, knowing that he would take on the load himself instead of letting you do it.

Press the button. Go on, do it!

Your voice is loud inside your head. The words echo before fading into nothingness. Your hand slowly extends towards the panel of buttons, your index finger hovering over the open door button. You bite your bottom lip, rolling it back and forth between your teeth.

Why are you hesitating? What’s holding you back? Don’t you love—

The elevator begins to move. It sinks to the lower levels. You shudder, a breath escaping your mouth.

Oh.

Life made the choice for you, didn’t it?

You press the button that leads to your floor, just two floors below his, and watch as the hand on the elevator’s floor list moves closer to the ground level. It stops on yours and you slip out, keeping your head hung low as your scurry down the hall and into your bedroom.

See? you think to yourself, it was never meant to be.

The week proceeded to go by so slowly. You grew fond of a routine that you and Caleb fell into, though, one that you subconsciously looked forward to ever since the first morning you were there.

Every morning, Caleb stands outside your hotel door while you got dressed. He knocks four times and you knocked back twice. He always had three things in hand: two coffees (one for the each of you) and an apple. Once you left your room, you took the coffee in your hand and drank half of it before reaching for the apple he always took a bite out of. You jokingly call him selfish, which he doesn’t refute, and you stand in the elevator side by side ready to deal with that day’s meetings.

You wish you could say that the meetings are interesting. They probably would be if you could keep up with what Caleb and the other leaders were talking about. While you translated for Caleb, you scribble down notes for him, mentioning anything peculiar that the person said or a phrase that you wanted to look into. He knew that keeping your hand busy was a way for you to focus better, so he didn’t mind watching as you worked.

Throughout the way, when you two are on a break, he compliments you on your penmanship in a world that is almost only digital. You laugh at him and roll your eyes, hiding your blush while looking away.

At every meeting, Caleb always pulled out your chair for you (if it was an option) and he always had his hand on your back when entering and exiting the rooms. He took the lead, as he usually does as Colonel, but also made sure that people give you the same respect that they gave him.

Caleb may not know their language, but you do. You’re the one holding all of the cards in your hands. It’s up to you to decide how to translate a word if they speak in a phrase or in slang terms. You are the one with all of the power in the room, not him. You deserve more respect than he does.

It is the morning of the last day of the peace summit. You wake up bright and early, the wind blowing in through your window, the bottom of the curtains swaying back and forth. Sitting up in bed, you yawn and stretch out your body.

The breeze is warm. It brings you immense comfort, wrapping you in a blanket. You fall back onto the bed, arms curled over your head, legs spread apart. You take up the entirety of the mattress. The white sheets are bunched up beside you, messily thrown about the bed. A tired smile creeps onto your face.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your gaze drifts towards the door of your hotel room. Your stomach flutters and you draw your legs together. You hesitate. There’s another knock, a little more forceful, yet still quiet just enough to break through the quiet of the morning.

“Caleb?” you call out.

“Are you not up yet?” Caleb’s voice is muffled on the other side of the door. You groan and shake your head, hoping that your silence would be answer enough for him. “Come on, open up!”

“Too lazy,” you push through words out as your stretch your body again, a small squeak escaping your lips before you relax back into the bed. “You can break in if you want, I don’t care,” you mumble, eyes drooping closed, your body slowly slipping back into sleep.

To you, it feels as if seconds have gone by when the door swings open. Your body jolts awake, eyes big and wide. You watch as Caleb saunters into the main room, well, you suppose it’s the entire room. The Fleet didn’t really go all out on lowly translators like yourself. You watch him through one open eye in bed. You’re laid on top of the sheets, slowly pulling them over your face.

Caleb sighs with content. He watches you curl back up into a bad, hiding your face from him. Your legs are exposed, wearing a simple pair of pajama shorts matched with an oversized t-shirt. They disappear under the blanket and he wishes he had just one more moment to look at them, to memorize how they look so he can imagine you waking up beside him in bed during a gloomy Skyhaven morning. Who needs the sun when you’re right here?

Caleb places the two coffees and pastry bag on the room’s desk. His hat sits next to the cups. The man glances at you from over his shoulder, a slow push of wind causing your arms to stretch up and into the air. A small smile forms on his face and his heart races in his chest. Caleb takes a couple of breaths to calm it down, not wanting to get too excited, and glides across the room. He sits down on the side of the bed. The mattress dips down and rolls you over to face him.

The white sheets slip to the side and unveil your face. A sleepy smile is on your lips, your eyes closed.

Are you still dreaming? Are you happy that I’m here?

Caleb places his hand on your hip, his thumb grazing against your soft, untouched skin. Oh, how he wants to lean down and kiss the exposed area, to show you just how much he loves you.

“Good morning,” he tilts his head to the side. You open your eyes an sigh, mumbling a ‘morning’ in return. “Let’s get ready, yeah? We have one last meeting to attend before we’re done.”

“That’s not true,” you groan, slowly getting up. Caleb wraps an arm around you, his fingers snaking under the fabric of your shirt and onto your skin. His calloused skin is a stark contrast to yours. You love how it feels against you, though. “I have a whole day of translating speeches for you.”

“That you do.”

“And I get to be stuck in a small booth when it happens. Boo.”

“Boo,” Caleb whispers and brushes the hair out of your face. Still under sleep’s trance, you lean into his touch and sigh, your body fully melting into his grip. “Come on, have some coffee, wake up.”

The coffee cup slowly floats over to the bed. He catches it and holds it out to you. You lazily take it, your fingers barely holding onto the cup so Caleb has to hold the bottom, and you bring it to your lips, the caffeine immediately hitting your body. Your eyes slowly grow bigger and bigger, the dull sleeping sensation freeing from your body.

“Thank you,” you whisper, taking another sip. Caleb nods. His fingertips trace the line of your jaw before cupping your face.

The pad of his thumb lays on your bottom lip. Your heart pounds in your chest. You suddenly become aware of the situation you are in. Old and worn out pajamas grace your body, your hair is a mess, and your breath probably smells since you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. Your eyes try to meet his but Caleb is focused on your lips. Your breathing grows shallow. He gently swipes his thumb across your lip. Caleb pulls away, his eyes finally meeting yours. For a moment, you swear you could hear his pounding heart as well.

“You had some coffee…” his words are quiet and are formed like an excuse for being to close to you, for pushing the boundary that has begun to evaporate between the two of you.

“Oh,” you breathe out. Caleb pulls away and stands. He looks down at you, then at his watch, then back to you.

“I’ll give you some time to change,” he clears his throat and slowly exits your hotel room. The door clicks behind him and you melt into the mattress, overing your face with a nearby pillow. A muffled and very frustrated yell is absorbed into the pillow. You pull it away and sigh, getting dressed.

As expected, the meeting is delayed by an hour due to technical difficulties. You sit inside a small room that overlooks the grand auditorium. You instantly spotted Caleb as soon as you stepped inside. You watched him as he moves around the room with ease, speaking with close allies and avoiding any enemies that the Fleet may have.

You also spot the tall, old man from the hotel lobby your first day here. He, like you, keeps a close eye on Caleb as well as other Farspace Fleet officers. He stands next to the General. Their heads lean into each other every so often as they observe the room. You wonder what they talk about.

Caleb sits down in his designated seat. He sighs to himself and rolls his head back, rubbing his eyes. The ear piece in his ear has been unusually quiet ever since you tested it with him earlier. He loosens his tie and looks around the room. He looks over his shoulder and looks at the line of mirrors that reflect the room. His purple eyes scan them.

Which one are you in?

“Are you trying to find me?” your voice comes from the earpiece. He inwardly chuckles, slightly nodding. “You’re close.”

Am I?

Caleb begins at the leftmost window. He slowly makes his way to the other side, listening to your soft coos of him getting warmer and warmer.

“Oof,” you shake your head from the booth. You’re practically leaned up against the two way mirror, looking down at him, your breath fogging up the glass. “You’re cold again. That’s a shame. I thought I remembered that you’d always find me.”

Caleb brings his eyes back to the left. He counts the windows before landing on one. He cocks his head to the side, a small grin appearing on his lips. You smile back, as if he can even see you, and lean back in your chair.

“Well would you look at that,” you purr, “you found me.”

You watch as his lips move. You can just hear the smugness in his silent tone, the arrogant and winning attitude shining through. Maybe show some humility next time, Caleb, girls love it.

“I need to tell you something,” you admit, rocking back and forth on your heels, “I’m going out tonight with the other translators…and a few others from other places.”

Caleb’s eyes widen. He stares at the window. Anxiety forms in his chest. His heart race slightly increases but it stays steady enough to not cause any alarm bells in his head to go off. He sits up in his chair, leaning forward. You copy his actions and sigh, knowing that it must be killing him to not be able to respond back.

“You’re going to behave, yes?” you playfully ask, wanting to lighten the mood. “And you better not be in front of my door when I get back. You won’t get…pretty bird privileges if you are. Nod so I know you understand.”

Caleb’s fists clench. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, anticipation bubbling in your chest. You’re toying with him, yes, having a bit of fun before he goes full bodyguard when you get back. Also, Caleb deserves to have his head spin for the night, to spend hours worrying about you.

He did break into your hotel room, after all.

His fingernails threaten to break through the leather of his gloves. Caleb sighs and relaxes into his seat, knowing that he is not going to win this battle. After a few more seconds, he slowly nods. You breathe out, relieved that he’s loosening the leash he has you on.

“Thank you.”

Much to your surprise, you come back to your hotel room early that night. The dinner with all of the other translators was fun, yes, but you began to feel the win get to your head and, well, everyone knows what happens when you have a little too much to drink.

Caleb wasn’t at your door. A part of you felt relieved while the other part felt remorse for being so curt with him earlier. Poor guy didn’t even have a chance to defend himself or to protest against your wishes.

Did he even survive the few hours you were away? Guess you’ll find out tomorrow morning.

Your bed felt so comforting to get into despite it not being your bed at home. It was what you got, though, and push the complaints out of your head. You wiggle under the tight sheets, liking how it holds you against the bed like when your dad aggressively tucked you in as a child. A small smile spreads across your face, eyes closed, ready for sleep to come and take you.

But it doesn’t.

An hour of tossing and turning in bed does you no good. Your mind is wide awake despite your body ready for sleep. The ceiling is undeniably boring and against your better judgment, you get out of bed and make your way to the balcony.

The night air greets you like an old friend, warm with a slight chill to it, the perfect temperature. You sigh into the night sky. In Skyhaven, the stars shine brighter and the moon is much bigger. You...miss it. You miss the constant clouds and rainstorms. Everyday here has been nothing but hot, leaving you finding shelter near an A.C. in the hotel and building where the Summit is being held.

A slow gust of wind pushes your hair out of your face and over your shoulders, hanging over your back. You sigh and close your eyes, soaking in the warm hug of the breeze.

Caleb is also out on his balcony right now. Instead of the stars and moon, he watches the blinking lights of flying planes overhead. In Skyhaven, one can see the blinking lights of satellites and space ships. A slow breath leaves his lips. A plane disappears behind a fluffy, gray cloud. Oh, how he wishes he was in the sky right now, his second home (the first being in your arms, of course).

He is just about to go back inside when he catches a glimpse of the top of your head. You’re two floors down and two rooms to the right. The Colonel steps to the edge of his balcony, looking down at you. He leans against the metal railing. His purple eyes focus on your tiny frame, the large t-shirt sliding off of your shoulder. He watches as you slowly inhale and exhale, the Colonel quickly joining in.

Is this you in your true self? The you that can be seen when nobody is watching? He loves it.

You open your eyes and stare at the bright, white moon. Its full body makes the night sky bright with the stars being mere specks of white that litters the black sky. It truly is a sight to be seen. You can’t help but wonder if Caleb is awake.

“Psst…pretty bird.”

Holy shit. Are you a psychic?

You look above you. Caleb’s chuckles fall down to you.

“You’re very cold right now.”

Ah, so he is to the left of you. You follow the direction of his voice, hands gripping the metal railing of the balcony. You look up, craning your neck to look around other balconies. Caleb’s face comes into view and you proudly smile, leaning against the metal bars.

“Is this what it feels like to be found?” Caleb quips. You can’t help but laugh and shake your head at him.

“It feels nice, doesn’t it?” you shoot back. Caleb nods. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Same,” you huff and turn away, looking back into the night sky. “The moon is pretty tonight.”

“You’re even more beautiful,” Caleb mumbles under his breath. “Do you need a sleeping pill or something?” He calls out. You shake your head and look back up at him.

“Hey…this reminds me of something,” you lean back over the edge of the railing, looking up at him. He raises his eyebrow, looking down at you. “Freshmen year. Miss Hart’s English class. She made us recite the Romeo and Juliet balcony scene in class. Except, you’re Juliet and I’m Romeo.”

Did we? Caleb inwardly sighs. I…I don’t remember.

You watch Caleb’s face contort once again like it did not even a few days ago. Silence overtakes your body. You nod and look away, catching the hint.

Of course, he didn’t remember. It probably wasn’t important enough to remember, anyways. It was stupid of you to bring up. You wipe a stray tear that falls from your eye, the sting of rejection and defeat all too familiar to you.

“Pretty bird?” Caleb catches your attention. You stare at him, hiding your glossy eyes from him. “Let’s not reminisce in the past. Let’s make new memories.”

“New memories,” you sigh to yourself. Your head rolls back, neck exposed.

Caleb stares at your skin under the moonlight; he wishes he could be down there with you, to hold you in his arms. He’ll never let go. He’ll recite any damn passage from Romeo and Juliet if it meant that you would look at him the same way you did that morning.

“Sure, why not,” you call out to him. His face lights up.

“Do you mean that?” he asks. You nod and his heart grows three sizes. “Let me come down there. Let’s make a new memory. Maybe I can help you fall asleep, too.”

“If you’re trying to get my pants off, Juliet,” you look up at him and narrow your eyes, “it isn’t going to work.” Caleb scoffs and rolls his eyes, not that you can see it very well, and his face scrunches up.

“Well, Romeo,” Caleb’s laugh is breathy with just the right amount of rasp to make your brain do a double take, “I was thinking more of us watching a shitty hotel movie.”

“Oh.” You look away, feeling the heat rise up on your cheeks.

Just a movie. Okay. Yeah, you can do that. It wasn’t really what you were expecting. Maybe a part of you was expecting the pants off part but this works too!

“Your place or mine?” you ask with a small smile, not looking in his direction. When you don’t hear a quippy or lighthearted answer from your childhood friend, you finally look up at Caleb’s balcony to see that he is —

Not there?

You lean forward and over the railing, trying to get a better look. Where could he have possibly gone? Does he not want to hang out with you? Well…damn. You never thought that Caleb would ever reject you—

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your heart stops. You slowly turn to look at the door, the only light coming from the small peephole in the middle of the stocky wooden panel. A few seconds pass. Your heart starts to beat again. You come back inside the room, creeping closer to the door. With every step you take, your heart skips a beat, beating faster and faster as the distance between you and him slowly diminishes. You grab the doorknob and push it downwards. The man on the other side pushes it open.

Caleb stands in the doorway, his hand flat against the door above your head. He looks down at you. The light from the hallway seeps through his messy hair, creating a halo like effect around his head. He takes a step forward, his broad shoulders filling the diameter of the frame. You take a step backwards and let go of the handle.

Caleb and you take each step slowly; every move is deliberate and calculated. The door clicks shut behind him. The two of you stand in darkness. You don’t dare to move but Caleb does, entering your close proximity. His faded blue shirt brushes against your purple one. You struggle to watch him in the darkness.

The light above your head flicks on. A small breath leaves your mouth, eyes wide open when you tilt your chin up to him. His eyes latch onto yours. His gaze alone sends chills to the spot between your legs. He doesn’t look away.

“Nice room.”

“It’s shitty and you know it,” your breathing is shaky, suddenly becoming aware that Caleb is here. He is here in your small hotel room, invading your space.

The funny thing? You don’t seem to mind anymore.

“You should have stayed with me when I offered,” a small smile twitches on his lips before his face falls again. You nod and stifle a laugh behind a closed mouth.

Being the first one to move, you turn away and scramble for the bed, tripping over your own feet but recovering quick enough for him to just barely notice. You pull back the bed’s sheets. The side of the bed closest to the balcony is yours.

Selfishly, you took this side because if an intruder were to come in, Caleb would be closest to them. While he fights them off, you’d make your escape to the balcony and hop to the neighboring one to seek refuge.

The mattress dips beside you. Your breath gets caught in your throat. Caleb’s shoulder brushes against yours, a spark of electricity igniting between you two. Your legs are tiny compared to his. He’s just a hunk of a man, gargantuan in every way possible.

Well, that’s not true. You don’t exactly know what he’s packing downstairs.

“What should we watch?” Caleb’s voice draws your face to look at him. He watches you from the corner of his eye. He turns the television on and the light paints his skin in the faint colors from the vibrant musical that plays. You silently gulp and look at the screen, needing a break from his dominant demeanor.

“Anything is good with me…as long as it isn’t horribly depressing or grotesque or has that one actress with the weird nose to forehead ratio or is basically propaganda from the Farspace Fleet.”

Caleb slowly turns to look at you, his mouth slightly agape from your list of no’s. You glance over and briefly meet his gaze before immediately turning back away. You grab one of the decorative pillows that separate your bodies and pull it to your chest, tucking your chin into the material.

“Alright…I can find something along your very relaxed guidelines,” Caleb muses with an amused chuckle.

After a few minutes of him clicking through channels, and you endlessly vetoing what he has to offer, you have found yourself tucked into his side. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pinned against the headboard. The tips of his fingers slipped beneath your shirt, gently swirling circles and stars into your skin. The side of your face is placed against his shoulder, one hand on his chest. You shake your head as he clicks through the channels. He smells even better than before. His cologne is intoxicating, the underlying musk drawing you in, making you want to stay attached to his side the rest of your life.

You truly don’t care what you watch with him, as long as it’s good and entertaining. All you really want to do is sit here with him and listen to his slow and steady heartbeat.

“Pretty bird,” Caleb breathes out, giving your side a gentle squeeze, “let’s pick somethin’, yeah?” You nod with a quiet yawn, already feeling the effects of sleep working on you.

He clicks through a few more channels before it lands on a romcom from decades ago. You don’t shake your head, which causes Caleb to look at you. Your tired eyes widen from the snappy dialogue. You love just how sarcastic and witty the love interests are with each other; the push and pull between them is absolutely electric. Caleb smiles and places the remote down, finally happy that you found something good to watch.

Every other minute or so, the two of you laugh. The laughs are tired and sometimes mixed in with a shared yawn. Your eyes begin to droop, your head fully leaning into Caleb’s shoulder. Quiet breaths, borderline snores, leave your mouth. You’ve succumbed to the blissfulness of sleep. You tried to fight it off as best you could but your efforts were futile. His embrace tightens. He feels your body relaxing, melting into his. He’ll sit upright all night long with you if it means that you’re able to get a peaceful night of sleep, that you won’t be harmed by nightmares like he is.

Soon, he follows, the quiet sound of the romantic comedy lulling him to sleep and, for once, he isn’t burdened with a nightmare.

Caleb wakes up to the sound of you rummaging through your luggage. He’s typically a light sleeper but with you he didn’t wake up once through the entire night. That’s a success, truly. The Colonel leans his head up, being sure not to move too much to alarm you. You’re dressed in a suit, one that hugs your curves just right while being loose enough to allow your body to breathe. A smile spreads across his face.

“Mornin’, pretty bird.”

You jump in your skin, standing up right with loose earrings in your hands. You turn to face Caleb, whose hair is messy, eyes half-lidded from sleep. The sight of him makes your heart flutter, your stomach quivering from your budding school-girl crush on him. His eyes scan up and down your body, heading tilting to the side. His brows knit together before they come back up to your gaze.

“We…we don’t have any meetings planned today. all we have is the gala tonight. Why are you…” his voice falls off, unable to find the proper words to string together. You sigh and run your fingers through your freshly dried hair, smelling like the hotel’s clean shampoo.

“The General called the room this morning. He asked me to assist him and…” you stammer, circling around to his side of the bed. You struggle to put your earrings in, a frustrated chuckle emitting from your throat. “I mean, you know how it is. Can’t really say no, can you? When they say jump, we say—”

“How high.” Caleb finishes your sentence, disappointment tinged in his voice. He looks in the other direction, looking out of your open balcony door and into the morning light.

Caleb knows what it’s like to be a lapdog to those who hold power over you. He knows exactly how it feels to be summoned in the middle of the night because the power above him, one that he plans on breaking free from, wishes for him to make someone disappear.

“I’ll be back soon…hopefully…but I will definitely be back for the gala, so…save me a dance, okay?” you smile at him, half out of breath, fastening the last piece of jewelry to your body. Caleb finally looks back over to you, a small and weak smile appearing on his face. You’re too busy and frazzled to notice the strain in his face, the anxiety that rips throughout his body while he watches you leave the hotel room.

please drop a like, reblog, & comment!! i love see what you all have to say <3

#caleb x non!mc reader #caleb x reader #caleb love and deepspace #lads caleb #caleb lads #caleb x you #lnds #caleb xia #xia yizhou #lads ansgt #lads caleb angst #caleb lads angst #lnds caleb #love and deepspace caleb #rcvcgers writings #rotten apples ❦︎

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starkwlkr · 2 months ago

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i gave so many signs | mark webber

an: instead of mark announcing this retirement in early 2013, it’ll be announced at the end of the 2013 season

part 1 part 3 (sad ending)

2013

For the past week, Y/n and Mark had avoided each other. It was complicated since their place of work required them to see each other daily, but somehow they didn’t speak one word to each other.

After the race, while Y/n talked with Sergio Perez, a Red Bull strategist approached them interrupting their conversation.

“Mark needs to speak with you.” The strategist told Y/n.

“Tell him he can come tell that himself.” Y/n tried to continue her conversation, but the strategist insisted.

“He said it’s very important and to bring the papers . . .” The strategist wasn’t sure what ‘bring the papers’ meant but either way he delivered the message.

That was enough for Y/n to apologize to Sergio for cutting their conversation short and leaving to find Mark. Well, her first stop was to retrieve her bag then find Mark. How did he know about the papers? It was a mystery to her.

She knew Mark was in his drivers room so she made her way to him. She also knew he wasn’t in the best mood. One word. Multi-21. Y/n had witnessed it. It was heartbreaking to watch so she would occasionally look down at her wedding ring and play with it.

When she finally made it to Mark’s room, she lightly knocked. “Yeah?” She heard Mark’s soft voice call out. Y/n opened the door and saw a worn out Mark seated on the floor. Once he saw her, he sat up straight and cleared his throat. “I didn’t think you would come. . .”

“How do you know?” She got straight to the point.

Mark knew what she was talking about. Last month he had found divorce papers on the kitchen counter of their shared home. Y/n was out running errands and Mark had come back early from the Gym.

Mark didn’t look up right away. He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting her gaze.

“I know you’re not happy,” he said, voice thick with exhaustion. “And I’m not either. So let me sign them, and we’ll each go our separate ways.”

Y/n tightened her grip on the papers. For a moment, she hesitated. She had come here fully expecting this outcome—after all, Mark had sent a strategist to find her, to tell her to meet him here and bring the papers. He was ready. He had made his choice.

A part of her still believed there was something to salvage. That maybe, despite all the fights, despite the growing distance, they could fix it. That this—whatever this was—wasn’t the end of them.

But then she thought about what Mark really wanted. What he had always wanted.

A family. A home. Something she wasn’t willing to give up everything for. She had worked too hard, fought too long to be where she was, to have a career that meant everything to her. And the truth was, she knew Mark wouldn’t be the one making the sacrifices.

So she swallowed the lump in her throat and took slow, measured steps toward him. Without another word, she held out the papers.

Mark took them, his hands steady as he flipped to the last page. The only sound in the room was the scratch of his pen against the paper as he signed his name.

And then it was done.

They sat in silence for a while, both staring at the floor, neither one sure what to say now that the inevitable had finally happened. It wasn’t an argument, it wasn’t explosive—it was just over.

Mark turned his head slightly, looking at her with something unreadable in his expression. “I hope you can be happy,” he murmured.

Y/N swallowed hard before nodding. “You too.” She hesitated, then added, “Maybe with someone who can give you what you want.”

Mark shook his head, a sad smile ghosting over his lips. “No,” he said softly. “That won’t happen. Because I want that with you.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a fleeting second, she thought about what could’ve been. But it was too late. It had been too late for a long time.

So she nodded, turned on her heel, and walked out the door.

2023

The air was thick with tension and anticipation, the sound of engines roaring down the straight filling the garage as McLaren’s pit crew stood ready. It was the first race of the season, and Oscar’s rookie year. Y/n felt the familiar pulse of adrenaline coursing through her veins, but beneath it, a layer of nerves simmered.

As she moved to step into the garage, someone else did at the same time. Their shoulders brushed, the unexpected contact making them both pause.

Mark.

For a second, neither of them spoke. They hadn’t spoken in years, hadn’t even acknowledged each other in the paddock despite the countless times they had been in the same space.

Y/n muttered a quiet, “Excuse me,” and stepped aside to let him through, treating him like he was just another person in the garage, just another face in the paddock.

Mark didn’t like it.

"Y/n," he said firmly.

She sighed, already exhausted by the conversation she knew was coming. “Mark, I have a job to do.”

“I know. And you’re brilliant at it. But I need to talk to you.”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“There is,” he insisted, lowering his voice. “I miss you.”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn’t let it show. “Mark…”

“I don’t care about kids anymore,” he cut in before she could protest. “That was years ago. We’re older now. Things are different.”

She inhaled sharply, stepping back. “You can’t say that.”

“Why not?” He tilted his head. “It’s the truth.”

“Because—” Her breath hitched, her vision blurring. “Because I ruined everything.”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “Y/n…”

She shook her head, her hands trembling. “I didn’t even think about it, Mark. I could’ve had both—I could’ve had a career and a family, but I didn’t even try. I was so fucking stubborn, so afraid of losing what I worked for that I didn’t see that I was losing you.”

Mark’s face softened, his expression pained as he reached for her. This time, she didn’t pull away. His hands settled gently on her arms, grounding her.

“I would’ve waited for you,” he murmured. “I would’ve figured it out with you. I didn’t want just a family, Y/n—I wanted you.”

A shaky breath escaped her lips as she shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together, but it was no use. The years of regret, of what-ifs, of missed chances—they crashed over her all at once.

Mark pulled her in without hesitation, his arms wrapping around her as she broke down against his chest.

“You didn’t ruin everything,” he whispered into her hair. “We’re here. Right now. We can still—” He swallowed hard. “We can still try.”

She clung to him, her mind racing, her heart aching. She wanted to believe him. She really did. But could she forgive herself? Could she let herself have this again?

She didn’t have an answer.

But for the first time in a decade, she let herself hold onto him, just for a little while longer.

Y/n didn’t know how long they stood there. Seconds? Minutes? It didn’t matter. Because for the first time in ten years, she wasn’t just existing alongside him—she was with him. And it hurt. God, it fucking hurt.

She pulled back, wiping her face with the sleeve of her McLaren jacket, her hands unsteady. “I should get back,” she muttered, her voice still thick with emotion.

Mark frowned, reluctant to let go, but he dropped his arms. “Y/n—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “This—whatever this is—this conversation shouldn’t be happening.”

His jaw tightened. “Why not?”

Y/n’s breath was unsteady, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to get a grip on herself. She needed to leave before she said something she couldn’t take back.

But Mark wasn’t letting her go that easily.

“Why do you do this?” he demanded, stepping closer. “Why do you push me away and then act like it hurts you just as much?”

Before she could think—before she could stop herself—her hands shot up, grabbing his face, and she kissed him. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate and angry, all clashing teeth and bottled-up regret.

For a moment, Mark didn’t react, frozen in shock. And then he did, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer like he was afraid she’d slip through his fingers again.

And then reality hit.

Y/N pulled back, her lips tingling, her mind reeling.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered, eyes wide.

Mark barely had time to process before her palm connected with his cheek in a sharp, stinging slap.

“What the fuck?” He staggered back, touching his face in disbelief.

She was just as stunned as him, her hand trembling. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

His nostrils flared, his frustration bubbling over. “I don’t understand you, woman!”

“Neither do I!” she shot back, throwing her hands in the air.

They stood there, breathing heavily, both looking like they wanted to strangle each other and kiss again all at once.

And that’s when Oscar appeared at the entrance of the garage. The poor rookie froze, wide-eyed, like a kid who had just walked in on his parents fighting. He looked at Mark. Then Y/n Then back at Mark.

Neither of them acknowledged him.

Oscar awkwardly cleared his throat. Nothing.

Alright. Cool. He’d just . . . pass through.

With the stiffest posture known to man, Oscar walked between them, silently making his way to his car, pretending he was not in the middle of some extremely personal, possibly violent lover’s quarrel.

The moment he was gone, Mark threw his hands up. “See?! Even Oscar thinks we’re fucking insane!”

Y/N groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t!”

“Yes, I do!”

“You kissed me!” Mark accused, pointing at her.

“And then I slapped you!”

“What kind of insane logic—”

“I panicked!”

Mark dragged a hand down his face. “You are impossible!”

“And you are unbelievable!” Y/n’s voice cracked, all the pent-up emotions clawing their way out. “You show up here, after years, and act like—like we can just fix this? Like none of it mattered?”

Mark’s nostrils flared. “It did matter.”

“Then why did you let me go?”

Mark exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Don’t do that, Y/n.”

“Do what? Speak the truth? Say the things you don’t want to hear?” She let out a hollow laugh. “I gave you so many signs, Mark. So many signs that I wasn’t happy, that I needed you to fight for us. But you didn’t. You just—let me go.”

Mark scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “You really think I didn’t see it?” His voice was lower now, rough. “I felt it. Every time you pulled away. Every time work came first. Every time I looked at you and wondered if you even wanted this anymore.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, something inside her cracking. Silence fell between them, thick with everything unsaid.

Oscar, still sitting awkwardly in the car, looked between them again and let out a quiet sigh. Yeah, they’re definitely still in love.

She looked at Mark—really looked at him. The sharp crease between his brows, the tired weight in his eyes, the way his fists clenched like he was bracing for her to say something he didn’t want to hear.

And for the first time, she saw it for what it was.

They had spent years running in circles, trying to fix something that had been broken long before either of them admitted it.

“We weren’t good for each other back then,” she finally said, her voice quiet but firm.

Mark’s jaw tightened.

“And we’re not good for each other now.”

His expression darkened. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth, Mark.” Y/n exhaled, shaking her head. “We tore each other apart without even meaning to. And we’re still doing it.”

Mark stared at her, the fight in him flickering—fading into something worse.

Acceptance.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The only sounds in the garage were the distant hum of engines and the occasional radio crackle.

Finally, Mark swallowed, nodding stiffly. “So that’s it?”

Y/n’s chest ached, but she nodded. “Yeah.”

And that was the cruelest part of it all.

They had loved each other. Really loved each other. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. Sometimes, no matter how much you wanted to rewrite the past, the ending was already written.

tags!!

@hc-dutch

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #mark webber fluff #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you

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yuikomorii · 1 month ago

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so i don't know a lot about DL's lore yet.. what's the difference between "king" and "adam" in the universe? 😅 and why do people say ayato is more fit to be adam than to be king

// The ideal Adam is basically a demon who never loses his appreciation for life or his ability to see the good in it, no matter how much suffering he endures. Even in the face of overwhelming pain, he refuses to let hardship define him, which is supposed to reflect the resilience of a human. Despite his struggles, he refuses to give up and keeps moving forward, holding onto hope that there is always something worth fighting for.

Ayato is considered the best candidate because he’s heroic and authentic; despite being hurt by many, he doesn’t allow their actions to make him resent life or himself. Instead, he treats it as a way to grow. Even in routes that aren’t his own, he willingly sacrifices himself for those who wouldn’t do the same for him, simply because he believes that’s the right thing to do. He’s even willing to commit sui€ide (LE and Daylight), if it means helping or bringing peace of mind to someone.

As for the king part, he needs to be someone who knows how to keep his emotions in check, staying calm even when things get tough. He has to be mature and wise, with a sharp sense for noticing when things are going wrong or when an opportunity is right in front of him. It’s all about having the ability to make the right calls, without letting impulse take over.

Other than the fact that Ayato acts like a teenager and lacks support, he wouldn’t be considered a truly respectable king anyway. In LE, it’s confirmed that he’s part Vibora, and because of that, the Vampire clan would never fully accept him. His mixed heritage means he’s not seen as "100% vampire”.

#admin

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months ago

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Yandere Femboy Tenant x Landlord Reader (2)

Part 1

“This is your new life, my little landlord, now let me tell you about my rules!”

The sad thing about this situation is the betrayal for you

You’ve heard stories about squatters or terrible tenants that didn’t want to leave

But you were never aware you needed to worry about being abducted

And by this tenant no less

From your many other tenants who were bodybuilders, gang members, drug dealers

It was this one

The pretty femboy who was always late on rent

“What’s with that indignant look on your face? Mad you didn’t guess? That’s okay no one suspects just how much talent is behind my gorgeous face.”

You don’t know if you’d call a dedicated fanbase excuse me a cult a talent

Now in some foreign luxurious place, the only people surrounding you are Sora and the dedicated followers who have been commanded to keep you here

“Sora-sama is bestowing a gift upon you! Be grateful!”

“Sora-sama did say you would say these concerning things…but he was right your illness is severe.”

“No worries Sora-sama has taught us how to give your medication no worries! Now stand still!”

The medication you’re given ranges from alcohol, paralyzing serums, or aphrodisiacs depending on your behavior

Sora is very careful about where he’s affectionate with you

He knows very well which of his loyal little followers will not mind, the ones that may even begin to worship you

But he knows there are dangerous ones

Jealous ones that are perfect for when he demands they commit certain crimes or ultimately sacrifices–when he gets to that point

It takes a while to go that deep

But a near attack from a jealous follower is enough to trigger it

Before this, he’d vaguely recall how he first cried to his followers about an especially creepy fan and hearing from police how little of their remains could identified

Or how one of the fans got a little too forward making him actively cringe in front of his followers

That fan was never heard of or seen again

At the time his guilt was small but present

He didn’t kill those people…his fans did…besides they were the ones overstepping

It’s not that bad…right

But when you’re on the line that guilt dissipates

The tears he sheds when he caresses the bandage on your arm

Are ones of anger

He’s perfect, beautiful, kind, full of wisdom

So why was his love being tampered with

The world should and would be at his feet

With you–safely–at his side

But he can’t do this without you being in danger

So he’ll let his tears show to the most loyal, the most violent, the most dutiful

“They hurt me by hurting my (Y/n)! Do you like this?”

“NO!”

“Will you not protect me? Protect us?”

“Of course! “Will you kill for us?”

“YES!”

“Good. We’ll be waiting to see the results of your hunt. My beautiful little followers!”

“YES!”

It kind of takes him back when you do try to add some input

Not too long ago he remembers pleading with you about rent

Now it’s you pleading with him not to execute the unlucky group that tried to take your place

But just like you did with him he’s going to cruelly deny you

Well maybe he can be persuaded if you let him participate in an activity you’ve forbidden of him

“I might be willing to let them off with a loss of one limb if you let me do that one thing!”

“....”

“Come on! Aren’t you a benevolent compassionate partner to their king? Won’t you convince me not to punish them with my wrath?”

“Okay but only one time!”

“Yay! Wait for me to get my lingerie!”

He flips often between being at your whim to controlling every aspect of your life

But he has you for an example

Back then you were the landlord who caught his heart and kept him in line

So isn’t it just perfect that he do the same

#yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere male x reader #yandere femboy #yandere femboy tenant #yandere tenznt x landlord reader #yandere original character #yandere original characters #yandere femboy oc #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader

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ichorai · 14 days ago

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chiropterology — silver kitties.

drabble synopsis ; all in the name of science. warnings ; slightly sexually suggestive, batmom has questionable morals when it comes to her experiments LMAO

series masterlist.

Aside from the diamond ring on your finger, you tended not to wear jewelry very often—dangly bits of metal were probably never a good idea to have on in your lab. It’s part of the reason why you frequently warned the kids to leave their weapons outside.

However, since Bruce was now (hesitantly) allowing you to accompany him to next week’s charity gala after a rather compelling presentation you put together, you figured you would go shopping for something fancy and bejeweled to put around your neck for the event. That’s it—no ulterior motives. None at all.

Save for your latest little gizmo you were planning to install into the necklace—once someone made direct eye contact with the pendant, a pulse signal would be sent back to your lab computer and you would later be able to replicate a frame of their thoughts into a printed image. It was a pretty cool concept that you thought up once Dick had dramatically sighed, “Eyes are the window to the soul!” to Jason, who had promptly told him to shut up.

And Bruce would never know! You just had to make sure he didn’t stare too intently at your décolletage. Besides… it’s not like it would harm anyone—just maybe, sort of, kind of a slight breach of privacy, but it was something you were solemnly willing to sacrifice in the name of science. It was, however, untested, so the possibility of it completely frying someone’s synapses admittedly was not beyond the realm of possibility. Best not to think about it.

The problem was now picking out a necklace that had a pendant large enough to fit your device whilst simultaneously being fashionable enough for a gala. Damn. You should’ve brought Steph along to help pick something for you. Though, knowing her, she’d likely just pick the most purple gemstone they had and tell you to go with that one.

You browsed through the glass displays, wondering why there weren’t any workers behind the counters hovering over you, eager to make a sale. Maybe they were all on lunch break and you’d just have to come back in an hour or so…

Before you could turn around, and walk out, the bell above the door jingled with a newcomer’s arrival.

“Mrs. Wayne,” purred a voice, silky and ever so familiar. You felt a smile grace the corner of your mouth as you turned to face her.

“Kitty,” you replied with a coltish tone. It didn’t take you long to realize that she was likely the reason behind the strange lack of employees in a jewelry store. “Nice to see you back in your natural habitat.”

Catwoman flexed her spindly hands, covered with clawed leather gloves. “Typically I would pull out my gun to scare off any customers during a robbery. But I won’t have to worry about you screaming, will I?” She circled you twice, like a shark would its kill, before sauntering behind the counters. She began to pick the tiny locks of the glass display cases.

“Depends on the situation,” you replied, watching her work with a curious smile. She was just as pretty as the last time you saw her.

She glanced over her shoulder to shoot you a flirtatious look. “You’re a married woman, you know. Shouldn’t be talking to me that way, given our… history.”

“Oh, please. Bruce and I were broken up back then. Just because you came to me for help and we ended up sleeping together once a long time ago does not make it history.” Your hands lifted to put air quotes around the last word. “And besides, it’s not like Bruce hasn’t had his fun with you, either.”

Selina hummed. It had only been a handful of seconds, but she already managed to get the lock loose, carefully shifting the glass panel beneath her palms until it gave way. Her movements were precise and calculated—it was clear she’d done this many times before. She began to pick the silver threads off the displays like fruits from a tree. “I dunno, baby. It was quite a night we had. But don’t worry… I’m not looking to get in between the most famous couple in Gotham. I am curious, though… did you tell Bruce about all the ways I made you—”

“Okay!” you squeaked, cheeks aflush with heat. Selina always managed to get you flustered beyond relief. “Where have you been?” you asked after a brief pause, deciding to steer the topic of conversation elsewhere. “Ever since the Riddler flooded the city, I’ve hardly seen you.”

Selina lifted a clawed finger to rest upon her lips. “I’m a bit preoccupied robbing this store for idle chit-chat. Here, hold this.”

She pushed an armful of chains and gems into your hands over the counter. With a sigh, you did as she said and began to rifle through the jewelry

“Paws off,” Selina snapped, returning to you with a bag she found somewhere in the back inventory to stuff all the remaining necklaces. They made a light, clinking sound as they tumbled into each other within the bag. “Those are mine.”

“Come on, Kitty,” you told her. “One necklace, and I won’t tell Bruce you were robbing this store.”

“Try again,” she said, unimpressed. “Bruce isn’t nearly as fast as me.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Okay. I’ll tell Orphan and Red Robin you were robbing this store.”

This made her pause in thought. “Fair play. Your children are terrifying little creatures.” She pointed to the bounty you were clutching. “One. Just one.”

“Greedy, greedy,” you muttered under your breath with a little grin. Though, when she trailed a suggestive hand over your shoulder while passing by you to get to the front of the store and collect whatever was left there, you quickly said, “I mean—yes, ma��am.”

Finally, after many minutes of indecisive staring at thirty different pendants, you eenie-meenie-minie-moed between the glittering options and snagged whichever one your finger landed on. You could work with what you got when you returned to your lab.

When she made her way back to you, she scrutinized the one you set aside for yourself with keen eyes. It was an elegant silver chain with a crescent-shaped pendant that shone a pearlescent hue. “Good choice. The bigger, the better, right?”

“It’s for this experiment I’m—” You abruptly halted your words with a wince, shooting her a lame smile. Better not to give Selina any blackmailing leverage over you. The kids already had enough of that for you to worry about. “I mean—it’s for one of my daughters.”

“Right,” she said, clearly not believing you, but not bothering to press any further. She was quite familiar with your many inventions and doohickeys, and was, frankly, not interested in listening to you ramble about physics for the next ten minutes. She swept the rest of the jewelry away from you and into the tinkering bag. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

With that, she tipped one of the perked ears on her mask like one would with a hat, leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek, and dashed away, completely silent despite all the leather she was wearing, leaving behind only a trace of her patchouli perfume. You blinked at the spot she was just standing in owlishly. Then, you glanced upward to look for security cameras. Two in the front of the store, and three behind the counters—all with cut wires. Of course, Selina wouldn’t let anything jeopardize her piracy.

You shook your head with a downturned smile, and pulled out your wallet to write out an anonymous check. After a quick calculation off the top of your head, you surmised that a clean two million dollars would be more than enough to reimburse all the empty display cases. You just hoped that the employees who were meant to be on shift wouldn’t get fired over this.

By the time you returned to the manor, still rather dazed from the interaction, the sun was just beginning to set. You slunk down into the batcave, making a bee-line for your lab. Bruce, who was just about to leave for an evening patrol, paused mid-conversation with Damian to look at you hurrying off. Initially, he thought that you had blood on your face, feeling his heart jump at the thought of you hurt. Upon further scrutiny, he saw that it was not blood but… a lipstick mark on your cheek? Who would—

Of course. Selina. Who else would be bold enough to do such a thing? His eyes squinted into suspicious slits. He might’ve let her slide with stealing a few necklaces here and there, but he drew the line at stealing kisses from his wife!

“Change of plans, Robin,” he said, voice suddenly an octave deeper, instantly switching into Batman mode. “There’s a dangerous thief roaming the streets of Gotham. She often targets jewelry stores and empty mansions. Your mother has already fallen victim. The aim of this patrol is to find her and put a stop to it.”

Damian’s brows drew together, insulted on your behalf. Without feeling the need to ask further questions, he immediately said, “Understood, Father. Mother shall be avenged.”

#bruce wayne x reader #batfamily x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne fluff #batfamily fluff #batfamily #batman x batmom #batfamily headcanons #batmom x batfamily #bruce wayne #selina kyle

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glamourscat · 5 months ago

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*waves* hellooooo ❤️

Just wanted to ask if you could do an analysis for barou too?

thank you so much for requesting this, love Barou so much. Also, this is kinda long cause i yapped away too much

Barou Shoei, also knows as the “King,” is a character full of contradictions. On the surface, his egocentric view on life and arrogant attitude make him easy to label as short-tempered and a “red flag.” But Barou is much more complex than that.

First off, the king persona isn’t just a front. Barou genuinely believes he’s the king of the field. His confidence isn’t misplaced. He knows he has the skills to back it up. This confidence comes from his deep fear of mediocrity and his relentless drive to prove his worth, both to himself and to others.

During the second selection, I initially thought Barou would learn to pass the ball, become a team player, and maybe even become friends with Isagi. Wrong. Barou does the opposite of what’s expected. And that’s what i love. Instead of fitting in, he adapts in his own way, pushing himself even harder and maintaining his individual strength. That’s the beauty of Barou, he’s resilient and unbending. He doesn’t pass the ball, he pushes himself even more to advance Isagi, a threat to his progress and yet at the same time the spark that pushed him to advance.

But Barou isn’t just about ego and power. He’s also incredibly intuitive. In the light novel, we learn about his family, specifically about his absent father and the love Barou nurtures for his mother and sisters. At just seven years old Barou had to witness his father being a deadbeat. His mother, with a one-year-old on her back and a newborn in her arms, tirelessly cooked for him. This experience forged a strong bond between Barou and his mother. As the light novel states, “When his mother was having a hard time, why wasn’t his father there? While thinking vaguely, he devoted himself to keeping the house beautiful.”

It’s no wonder Barou can’t stand people like Nagi, who are too laid-back for his liking. Although his relationship with his father isn’t explicitly stated, it’s clear it’s not a positive one. Barou grew up with his mother as his role model. She worked her ass off to provide for him and his sisters, showing resilience and strength. How could Barou, the self-proclaimed king, give up on his dreams when his mother made so many sacrifices for him?

Which brings me to this. Barou’ behaviour is a byproduct of his upbringing and experiences. Barou’s intensity on the field is matched by his loyalty and protective instincts off it. He may not show affection in conventional ways, but his actions speak volumes about his commitment to those he deems worthy.

His sheer determination to succeed and independence reminds me a lot of the “eldest daughter curse.” The one who always has to put a brave face in front of everyone. The planner. The organiser. The parent. The sibling and the child they couldn’t be. It’s canon that besides for his birth, he never cried afterwards.

Maybe because he feels he does not have the right to? Maybe because he feels other people have it worse so he refuses to cry? Or maybe because after seeing and living with an absent father, picking up the role of the missing parent and emotional supporting figure for your sisters and mother, he kinda became numb. Because your feelings and worries become an afterthought.

So, no, Barou isn’t a red flag. His intensity and harshness are just part of his dedication and his refusal to settle for mediocrity. He’s deeply committed to his goals and willing to endure solitude and criticism to achieve them. Barou’s sense of honor and integrity also sets him apart. He doesn’t cheat or rely on underhanded tactics, he achieves his goals through sheer willpower and skill.

Because that’s simply who the king is. Barou is the essence of what it means to be a striker.

#barou shouei #baro shoei #bllk barou #blue lock barou #Barou shouei character analysis #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #barou shoei x reader #character analysis #barou shouei headcanon

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allmightluver · 9 months ago

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@hhbluedynamite I’m going to make separate post here to address this. Tumblr mobile is a pain and I can’t add all picture examples I want to it here goes.

This has been a debate ever since My Hero came out,

“Why are All Mights eyes black?”

There’s been multiple explanations from how his borrowed quirk works to simply his own emaciated state. I’ve come up with my own theory. It’s said the eyes are the windows to the soul. I believe All Might’s eyes grow darker the more “weight” he carries.

For example,

When All Might was a kid, his eyes were normal. White. After losing his family, rendering him an orphan, white. Even after losing Nana, still he looked normal.

And after first releasing to the public.

This is because although he’d already been thru hell and back emotionally, he’s still normal. Even with his quirk.

Then, after he’d been in the game a while, they suddenly darkened.

Why?

Because by that time, the full gravity of his position, his responsibility and the realization he was essentially alone in that place, had fully sunk in.

Because he was so over powered above everyone else, everyone including the heroes left him to take care of almost everything they felt was too hard. And because he’s a selfless person at heart without a care to his own safety, he willingly allowed it to happen without asking for help. He didn’t want to risk losing anyone else. Which is also why he didn’t take on any sidekicks.

Until Nighteye.

Vigilantes showed us Toshinori when he wasn’t being All Might. And his eyes turn back into white in his more relaxed form, albeit with tired lines beneath them. However this is when he had Nighteye to count on. And Nighteye can see the future, so perhaps he would be safe, right? Well we know what happened there.

After he and Nighteye break up go their separate ways, we never see Toshinori with white eyes again. (Unless I’m forgetting so please tell me if I am). Now he’s injured, only a handful of people to trust, and none can truly understand what he’s going through. At this time he truly is alone, and the one thing that gives him joy is slowly but surely being fizzled out within him.

All Might’s eyes continued to remain black for years. Even after giving his quirk to Izuku. He still felt the weight of the world on his shoulders because he feared for Izuku’s safety. Blamed himself for every scar and Injury the boy suffered thru. Even though he was retired, nothing had changed. In fact it was worse now, because he could do nothing to help anymore.

And then he gains support items to face AFO for the last time. He’s a distraction, a willing sacrifice to slow the monster down, and he couldn’t be happier. We see the whites of his for the first time. All through the fight we see them, shaded albeit, but they’re there.

When he speaks to Nighteye asking if this isn’t the place he was meant to die, Nighteye confirms that it is. The fact that he’s still alive makes him raise the question, why is he still here then? I’m the mentor, Izuku is a ready and worthy apprentice. He doesn’t need me anymore. I’m supposed to be dead by now. His eyes seem darker here, as if the weight and his own depression have increased again. Perhaps begrudgingly accepting his fate.

But then here after Nighteye tells him he reads too many comic books, and that there’s no way he would go out that way, we get a closer look. Although his eyes are still shrouded in black because of his emaciated state. His eyes themselves are clearer, brighter. Even if Nighteye is only in his head, his words are still bringing him hope deep down.

While being tended to medically, his eyes are dark again, though I believe this is mainly due to him barely being alive and conscious at this point. And they’re still white, more than we’re used to seeing.

Finally after the war while they’re recovering, his eyes remain white, though they’re still shaded. The weight is still present. His work isn’t done yet. Izuku is losing his quirk, and he still feels like a failure in some sense because of that. Also because he and Bakugo almost died. And because of everyone who did die in the war all because he failed to stop AFO after three tries.

People who weren’t qualified to be heroes were even involved in this battle. And he thinks it unfair to hold such high standards when there are people who can still help, even if not at the extreme levels of the top heroes. He and Deku are proof of that!

In the last chapter several years later, we finally see Old Man Might! And his eyes-they’re so bright. ❤️

Of course they’ll always have a little shadow to them because of his sunken in appearance, but the tired lines under his eyes are gone. There’s not the black bags from pushing himself too hard, just the normal wrinkles that come with age.

This is Toshinori that’s been missing for decades. The man whose impossible weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders. He knows he can finally relax, he doesn’t have to be on alert or on call anymore. The world is safe without him.

He even found a way for Izuku to keep up his hero work with a suit similar to his own during the war (though most definitely suped up).

Finally, he can be at peace. His body, soul, and mind can finally begin to heal. He can work through all of the trauma he’s been stuffing down all of his life.

Finally, he can live.

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justastraymoa · 3 months ago

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Yet Unnamed

Chapter 8

Masterlist | Ch 7.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Slowly you half woke to titters and shutter sounds. Your brain too foggy and asleep to register what was happening. But you could feel that it was far too early for you to be awake. So, pulling solid warmth closer to you, you buried your face in silkiness and immediately dozed back off. The last sound you registered was the click of a door closing.

Then your alarm ripped you back to consciousness, making you jump in bed hard as it scared you. You rolled over and turned it off, squinting as the bright light on the phone blinded your sleepy eyes.

You were alone. The blanket you covered Han with last night was neatly folded in the spot he had fallen asleep in. He must have woken up during the night and decided to go to his own bed.

You were not the first one up. Seungmin and Felix were already up and eating breakfast. As soon as you walked in, they smirked at you identically and you immediately became suspicious.

"What?" You asked, looking to make sure you didn't forget pants or something equally as important. It wouldn't be the first time, to be honest.

Seungmin shook his head. "Nothing. How did you sleep?"

You squinted at him and his obvious change in subject. "I slept very well." They exchanged a look as you sat down to eat. "How did you sleep?" You asked deciding to just let them be weird. It was too early to try and decode them.

"Very well. Hyunjin and I spent the night together." Felix answered. He had a satisfied, dreamy look on his face that made you smile. It was sweet to see how far gone they all were on each other.

They showed their love in so many different ways. Not just kisses and cuddles, those were obvious. Anyone could see the affection in those actions. It was also shown in the small ways. Han, helping you build a shelf. Lino cooking dinner and letting Felix help. He always patiently taught and showed Felix what to do.

Changbin, the protector. Always willing to help physically, whether it be with his strength or by offering cuddles. Constantly ready with kind words and an open ear. Just being around him made you feel safer.

Seungmin, hard at first glance with is words and actions, but always willing to listen to any issue or complaint. He doesn't tell you what you should do, more he sets you on the path to figure out what you should do on your own. And he will hold your hand while you find it. While you figure it out. So, you know you are never alone. Even if it's just him laughing at your stumbles as he helps you to keep steady.

Ayen. Playful teasing makes everyone feel better with just a few simple sentences. His dimpled smile is never judgmental when it really matters. When it is truly needed.

Felix is the embodiment of sunshine. Laugh and smile infectious and the kindest soul you will ever meet. He will sacrifice anything to help a complete stranger. So, imagine what it feels like to be one of those he cares about. It's almost overwhelming in the best way.

Hyunjin quiet, soft, shy. Wiling to just sit quietly with you for hours without a single word exchanged. Just let you decompress but not have to be alone to do it. Giving touches freely just when your mind was trying to spiral. Reminding you of his presence and support.

Chan, the leader, the father, a protector. He would support any one of you on anything you wanted to pursue. Going as far as to study whatever it was himself, so he could better understand and help you. So, he could enjoy it with you if you wanted.

They were literally everything you had ever dared to hope for growing up. Even more. And now you got to go on this adventure with them.

Han walked in; his hair still wet from his recent shower. You smiled at him when you locked eyes. He immediately turned bright red and avoided your gaze. Seungmin and Felix burst into laughter.

"Okay, what did I miss?" You ask pinning both laughing boys with your best disapproving mother look.

It worked. They quickly quieted when they saw it.

"They are just teasing me, don't worry." Han mumbled moving to get his own breakfast.

No, there was something more to this. "Yeah, no. Out with it."

Felix looked away and Seungmin sighed pulling out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times before handing it to you, a picture already pulled up.

The lighting was dim, but you could clearly see you and Han in your bed cuddling. Han was laying half on top of you, arm around your middle, head cushioned on your breasts, his sleeping face peaceful. You were wrapped around him with both arms, your face half buried in his bed head. You wanted to cry at how adorable the picture was. Holding the phone with both hands and cradling the precious picture between them.

You quickly sent the picture to your phone. You would most certainly need to print and frame it. It was just too cute to sit in an album on a phone. Too cute not to be seen and worshipped.

"I-I'm so sorry-" Han began, fretting.

"Jisungie! This is so cute! Oh my god, I am so hanging this up in my room!" You gushed turning the phone to show him and pulling him closer to kiss him in excitement. Your heart was absolutely mush and your brain was sparking. You wanted to stomp your feet and squeal at it all.

Han was frozen, mouth partially open and face tomato red all the way down his neck and back to his ears.

You handed Seungmin his phone back. "You two are just jealous." You concluded with a smirk. Seungmin rolled his eyes, but didn't deny it.

You left the room to get to work on the YouTube video editing and print the picture to hang it up. It was turning into a great day already.

You only had 2 days to edit the video and get it ready to post. Which didn't give you a lot of time. Especially since other things were going on as well.

Stray Kids had fan calls later on today that you were in charge of. That started this afternoon. And the meet cute photoshoot was tomorrow.

The photoshoot would be an all-day thing. You were in every photo since it was your debut shoot. The boys would be in and out. They would be in the group photos, some duo/trio/quad photos, and one on one photos with you.

So, slipping on your cuter, less professional headphones, you settle in and get comfortable, pulling up the raw footage that they sent to you yesterday.

It was just over an hour later, by your computer clock when your concentration was broken by Felix knocking on your doorframe, looking unsure of his welcome. You pause the video and save your progress, turning to give him your full attention.

When one of the boys wanted to visit you or wanted your attention, they weren't usually so shy about it. Not anymore. Unless something happened or they were feeling more vulnerable/anxious for whatever reason.

"Come in. What can I do for you?" You ask.

He stayed standing in the doorway instead of coming in like you had requested. Like they all usually did. You always kept your door open, liking when they would pop in for a visit.

"Are you mad? Because of this morning?" He asked. "We weren't making fun of you, I promise."

You sigh fondly. Only eternal sunshine angel Felix would worry over something like this. Something so simple. You hold your hands out to him, and he comes forward, almost looking ready to cry. Seriously this eyes should be registered as weapons of coercion.

"Angel, I am not even a little mad. It was just teasing - I know you weren't trying to be hurtful to either of us."

His entire body relaxed. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for." You soothe squeezing his hands.

"Can I cuddle while you work? I won't get in your way."

In response you sit back in your chair and let him climb onto your lap. He straddled you and held you close, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

You ran your fingers through his hair a couple of times before getting back to work. It was easy enough to work around him once you adjusted. And it was nice to work while cuddling. Warm.

And while you worked, he played on his phone and game system, staying true to his word of not getting in the way of your work.

Sometime later, you saved your work again. "Gather for fan calls!" You shouted as you locked the computer.

In your lap Felix jumped about 3 feet in the air and sat up. You mouthed an apology and grimaced. You hadn't thought about it when you suddenly shouted right in his ear after being quiet for so long.

As we waited for everyone, you and Felix created a little space in the living room to do the calls. Blank light brown backdrop, comfy seating, and the camera stand set up right in front of it.

"You do things so differently. Not as much big fancy production." Felix mentioned off hand.

You suddenly got a little self-conscious. You were still new at this job, and you had done nothing this big before. You wanted to do a good job, but you aren't a big fancy production type person. Anything you can keep small, you tend to. But that wasn't what the others were used to. They had worked hard to get where they are, and they deserved the fancy productions that matched how big they were. How far they had come. How much they worked to get there.

Maybe it would be a good idea - after your reveal video - if you sought out some of the old social media people or the ones from different groups and studied how they did things with these bigger artists. So you could do things the way the group was already used to. It wouldn't hurt to keep things the same for them, so it was less stressful.

For now, you shook the thought off. Now wasn't the time to think of these things. It was too late to change what was already being done. They would need to deal with the way things are for now.

You refocus on the task at hand. Pulling the fan call schedule up on your work tablet and connecting it to the camera so it was ready to go when the boys were.

"Fan calls are so fun! It's been a while since we have done them." Chan walked in and rubbed his hands together.

Everyone else followed just after him, in cozy but nice-looking clothes, hair and makeup. They looked relaxed. The group plopped down around the living room, looking to you. Looking for any last-minute instructions.

You sighed; everything was as ready as it could be. "Alright. So, with the search for the ninth member being teased hard right now they will be bound to ask questions and try to get information."

"So don't be pabos and let anything slip." Lino cut in.

"Yes. True. I know this isn't the way you are used to doing this, so hopefully you aren't too thrown off. Be on guard but have fun. Chan, you are first."

"Don't worry, babe, we got this." Chan kissed your cheek as he went by to set himself in front of the camera and wait for the first call to start.

Fan call behind the scenes was more hectic than you had really thought it would be. But you shouldn't be surprised. Your soulmates thrived on being chaotic after all. And it wasn't more than you could easily handle.

Most fans were fun and respectful on their calls, engaging the boys in interesting questions and games. Wishing them luck on their search for their ninth member but not pressing for information when initially shut down.

But there is always one in the bunch. Third to last fan call the fan only cared about getting information on the search. Going so far as to bombard Han as soon as he got on instead of even greeting him. Almost yelling their demanding questions into the camera.

Han, though flustered, did a very good job of answering the invasive questions without revealing anything. Even though the fan got increasingly frustrated and kept pushing the subject. Everyone was glad when that call ended, and you immediately took note of the fan to place them on a block list. They wouldn't have another chance at a fan call to spread their disrespect for your soulmates.

You sighed as the last call finally ended and eveyone relaxed. "Fantastic job!" You praised immediatly starting to clean up.

"Leave it for right now, Y/n. We will pick it up later." Ayen said, patting the seat next to him in invitation.

And it was a very tempting invite. You didn't like denying your soulmates cuddles or time with you, but there was looming deadlines and a lot of work that needed to be done. You shook your head and kept going. "Sorry, can't. I still have a lot of work to do on the YouTube video."

You finished up the cleaning and went back to your room to work. This time, you softly shut the door so you would have no distractions, then settled back in to hopefully get a good chunk done.

You skipped dinner in favor of getting more of the video edited. You also had all the social media to go through before you could end your night. Clips of the fan calls had already made their way online and some of the boys commented on them or reacted to them.

You were happy to see the one fan call with the overly pushy fan was not getting a whole lot of love from the other members of STAY. Condemning the fan for wasting their opportunity to talk to their favorite idol. And it was so disrespectful. Not just to the idol, but to the fans who didn't get to do the fan call. Who wanted nothing more than those precious minutes with one of the boys and wasn't able to for one reason or another.

Plus, you set up some time with other social media workers in the company to talk with them and shadow them for a bit to learn from them. You had to sacrifice some of the little time you had to work on the YouTube video tomorrow, but it would be worth it for the knowledge. And you would find more time somehow. It would get done.

The next day you had the soul group photo shoot. It was a relaxing concept, something that fit with your personality since it was your debut shoot. Classic coffee shop/bookstore backdrop.

The softness of the boys when the photos come out will be very popular with STAY. The only thing better than sexual tension photos was fluffy photos.

Even as excited as you were, you were still nervous as hell. And your stomach was not cooperating with you this morning. You stuck with coffee and an apple for breakfast.

"You should eat more, you didn't eat dinner last night either." Bin said disapprovingly when it was obvious that I wasn't going to eat anything else.

You patted his chest and took a sip of your drink before going back to your room without responding to his concern.

You all traveled to the set together in a van. You spent the ride wearing earbuds and working from your laptop set up on your knees. Lino sat next to you quietly as the others talked amongst themselves. They were all still pretty calm because it was an early morning.

You were anxious to finish the video. It was premeiring in less than 24 hours. On top of that this photoshoot would need to be released as well, and you would need to approve of and choose the photos. And the boys' socials were going to blow up with both, so you were going to be swamped with work for the next several days before it would even out to steady again for a bit.

And the boys had their own schedules as well. Ayen, Lino, And Bin woud be traveling for several days for interviews and videos. Chan and Han had songs to work on for an upcoming comeback. Seungmin and Felix had several photoshoots coming up with fashion agencies. And Hyune was shooting a commercial/magazine spread. You were all going to be over the top busy.

And there was one thing you needed to add to the schedule. Your part of the YouTube video was done enough that you could record their reactions to the secret you have been keeping from them.

"I would like to add a reaction video after the photo shoot today. There is a tiny slot of time, and it should only take a few minutes." You announced.

There were mummers of agreement and acceptance. "Reaction to what?" Chan asked. He was sitting directly behind you.

"My interview." You didn't want to give too much away, it would ruin all the fun of a reaction video.

"Did you actually spill dirt on us?" Lino asked.

You feigned hurt, clutching your chest. "How dare! Of course not!" Well at least not anything crucial. Any 'slips' were thought out and planned in advance. Only looking like an accident.

After your hair and makeup was done, you looked at yourself in the mirror and tried to make some faces that you remembered seeing others make online or in magazines. They all felt stupid to you. You had never modeled before, and you honestly should have taken some time to ask the boys for help getting prepared.

"Hyune, can you help me with something?" You asked quietly embarrassed. Last minute practicing could only do so much and you felt like you dropped the ball.

Hyune put his phone down and looked up at you, waiting. He looked so soft in his cozy sweater and floofy hair. Light soft makeup with blush placed high up on his cheeks and nose. "Sure, what did you need?"

Looking down you twisted your fingers. "I have never done this before. How do I make good poses and faces?"

Face softening, Hyune gently smiled and gestured you forward. You were wearing a long brown skirt, a white loose button-up with flowing sleeves, and small flower embroidery on the collar. Brown boots with lace socks peeking out from the top and black tights on under those.

You were expecting a bit of teasing or, at the very least, a laugh, so it was a pleasant surprise when he just turned you to face the vanity mirror, standing you in between his legs. His chair was tall enough that he could still see over your shoulder, even still sitting.

As the others were getting ready and joking around, he went over basics with you, having you practice simple soft looks that would match the vibe of the shoot. Helping you find natural and good-looking body positions as well and giving you small bits of advice.

"Don't worry too much. We will all help and eventually this will come naturally like it does to us." He finally said when he had done all he could in the short time you had.

"And things can sometimes get frustrating and intense, so don't take anything too personal. It's all in the moment." Ayen warned, joining you.

Oh great. Hopefully you didn't make them fight by being so bad you stressed them out. Plus, the added stress of this shoot not being like their others for several reasons. You had wanted to find a new cozy vibe and setting they hadn't done yet. A theme that felt fresh. But maybe it was too different for them. Maybe they wouldn't feel it and hate it.

"It's different than usual. The theme and how the shoot is going to be run. I'm not sure how they ran them before, so bear with it, please. And let me know what needs to be done that I missed, okay?" I am damn good at what I do, but this wasn't just about me. This was a team effort. And they were my bosses.

"I'm sure it will be fine." Felix patted your back carefully. You smiled at him, still unsure.

Well actually, you were sure. You were sure you were messing up all of Stray Kids flows. Pretty sure you weren't doing anything like they wanted you to. Just barely squeaking by for now with the excuse that this was all new to you. But damn if the fans would notice anything bad. It was all behind the scenes that was the issue. You could edit the shit out of anything bad before posting behind the scenes videos, so that secret would never get out.

You were very pleased when you finally saw the finished set in person. It turned out just as you had imagined it. Getting it set up on such short notice meant that it was mostly done over texts, phone calls, pictures, and video calls. So the fact that it came out so perfect was a great accomplishment on everyone's parts. The staff you worked with did great in being patient and understanding with you and an amazing job at bringing your vision to life.

During the shoot everyone was exceptionally patient with you. Both staff and the boys helped you get into positions and fix your facial expressions. The camera man mostly shouted at you. He was getting irritated with your inexperience and frustrated when you didn't know how to do what he was asking.

You could tell several of your soul mates were getting angry at him and how he was speaking to you.

"Hey, stop! You are getting paid to do a job, not scream at us!" Ayen finally snapped near the end of your one-on-one portion of the shoot. At this point, you had been fighting tears for several different poses, and he had noticed.

"It's fine, Ayen. Leave it be. It's my fault anyways." You whispered to him, not wanting to have him get a bad reputation by insulting the photographer.

"No, it's not. You are new at this, and he knows that. He can be more helpful and understanding." Ayen grumbled pulling you in close and hiding your face from the camera for a moment so you could get rid of the few tears that managed to escape. "I know you are tired, it's almost over. Just hold on a little longer." He kissed your forehead, and you heard camera clicks. He was still posing and working the camera, even while comforting you. A true professional at this.

Bottom line, you were glad when it was finally over. You were exhausted and still had a lot of stuff to do today before you could rest.

Nevertheless, as soon as you were out of the outfit for the shoot you started setting up for the reaction video while the boys gathered.

"Is this going to be a good reaction?" Han asked. He claimed the first seat.

"Don't know. I just think its something STAY will enjoy watching once the full video comes out." You shrugged. You hoped they wouldn't be upset about your fun little white lie.

"Are you okay?"

Smiling tightly, you nod. "Just tired."

"Take a nap then. Don't push yourself." He looked concerned, which made you wonder just how bad you looked.

You ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Of course you will. You are one of us now." Seungmin said as he sat in his seat.

As soon as everyone was sat you started. "Okay, we don't have a lot of time, so just watch and react naturally. I'll edit later."

You press play and stand back, biting your lip nervously. It's not like they would react too badly, right? They may be slightly upset you deceived them, but most likely not downright angry. Right?

"Ah!" Bin shouted pointing at the screen as soon as you revealed you were fluent in Korean.

Felix stared at you with his mouth open, Lino laughed and clapped. Chan snorted, and Hyune had a wide smile on his face. Seungmin was smirking with an odd look on his face you couldn't place. You just hoped it was a positive one. They all immediately switched to Korean.

"You have been able to speak Korean this whole freaking time!" Felix shouted

"'Why didn't you say anything?" Chan asked.

You shrugged. "You never asked and it wasn't really a big issue."

"I have been struggling all this time for nothing?" Lino responded gesturing with both hands to the screen.

The only one who didn't really react in any way was Han. "Han? Are you mad?" You didn't like how quiet he was being.

He shrugged. "I kind of already knew. You were flipping back and forth the other day when we were putting the shelf together."

"No wonder you haven't tried to start learning Korean!" Felix clapped his hands once, the loud noise making you flinch slightly. You were tense and stressed. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice the small flinch.

"Know any other secret languages?" Ayen asked still smiling.

"Several. I have a gift for languages." You respond, bragging only a little.

"Japanese?" Felix asked, now curious.

You nod.

"Chinese?"

"Several."

"Thai."

"Love their BL. They have some of the best out there. Was worth learning just to watch them."

"Really? BL?" Lino asked incredulous.

"We all have our guilty pleasures." You were way beyond being embarrassed about BL. Now you even watched it in public without so much as a blush.

"French?" Felix was still on the languages. Naming mostly places that Stray Kids went the most.

But this one always caught you some flack. "Ew, no."

"Ew?"

"Unpopular opinion, but I think the language is ugly. No offense to anyone! Just the sound of it doesn't scratch my brain right. More like nails on a chalkboard."

"So, you just never learned it?"

"More like I couldn't. Couldn't stomach it." No one pushed it.

You gave them another few seconds to process all the new information. Let it really sink in and marinate.

"Are you upset?"

Bin shook his head, eyes wide. He baby stepped to you and pulled you into a hug. "Shocked is all, I promise."

Letting out a breath, your shoulders dropped as you relaxed and placed your hands on his sides.

You rested your chin on his shoulder as he twisted back in forth in place soothingly.

"Well, I'm mad!" Seungmin declared.

Bin rubbed your back gently when you flinched lightly, unable to hide this one since you were being held by him.

"Minnie, you can't mean that." Han said softly.

But Seungmin nodded. "I'm mad I didn't figure it out sooner! The evidence of the lie is all right there!"

"You're not mad at Y/n, though, right?" Felix tried to clarify.

The alarm on your phone went off and you pulled away from Bin. "Doesn't matter. Times up. Gotta go." You quickly gathered your things and packed up. Maybe some time will cool Seungmin off and everything will be okay when you went home.

"The van isn't ready yet." Chan pointed out.

You shook your head. "I'll be at JYPE. I have to meet with several people and learn how your last social media expert did things. Don't wait up. I'll be really late tonight." You waved to the group with a smile and left quickly.

👁👄👁👄👁👄👁👄👁👄👁👄👁👄👁👄👁

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

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greenandhazy · 1 year ago

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okay but it's the fact that CQL is in large part about what you would sacrifice for the people you love, and in almost every other instance in the show, that sacrifice is portrayed as, if not necessarily the Right decision, at the very least evidence of fundamental goodness. the Yunmeng trio, Wen Qing for her brother and Nie Mingjue for his (Fatal Journey counts 100%), Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, they make difficult choices for love and that makes them Good even if it doesn't make them happy.

and then there's Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang. whose identities are so fundamentally wrapped up in being His Mother's Son and The Little Brother, respectively, and they are so singularly devoted to the legacy of their relative that they will continue to fight for it long after death. they will sacrifice others in a heartbeat. they will lie, they will scheme, they will cause others pain. they will endure humiliation after humiliation. they will put on a persona that makes their true selves unrecognizable even to the people who know them best. ultimately they will sacrifice their own morality, their own goodness, in a way that would probably horrify the people in whose names they make this sacrifice.

I am falling asleep and these are random disjointed thoughts but other things that drive me feral about them is:

the backstory CQL gives, Meng Yao being at the Unclean Realm for (?) a length of time, and allll the visual signifiers of a close, basically familial relationship between them

(I know fanon likes to talk about "the Nie braids" as a sect-wide thing but they ARE NOT. they are a HUAISANG AND MINGJUE AND MENG YAO THING. litcherally no other Nie disciple wears them, not even Nie Zonghui! that's so significant!)

CQL/FJ leaning hard into the suggestion of the brothers being more or less on their own, very little discussion of their parents, leaving room to lean into the idea of NMJ fulfilling a parental role as well as a brotherly one, and the parallel between him and Meng Shi being even stronger

the final flashback to Meng Yao and Meng Shi, and how it's framed to suggest that as coming from Huiasang--a cherished memory Meng Yao passed on to him?

I've seen this floated around on tumblr before, about how it's very likely that Jin Guangyao underestimated the depth of Huaisang's love for his brother, based on how his love manifests as overachieving. so that moment of revelation in the temple being not just "oh, you're the one who was behind this the whole time" but "oh, you and I have this same sickness, this same depth of feeling."

the character songs. I'm obsessed with them. the fact that Jin Guangyao's is a constant litany of questions, uncertainty, revolving around "How many people are willing to know your true face?", while the Nie brothers' song has their relationship as this unshakeable foundation, to the point that they're the only two characters represented by one vocalist. the Unclean Realm being unquestionably "a place of deep love" and the only uncertainty being "when will we see each other again?"

(...and that being answered in part by the title, the repeated use of farewell with connotations of permanence. Huaisang defying death, wanting his brother back in any form possible, while Jin Guangyao literally meets his doom because he is so concerned about earning his mother an easier time in her next life.)

mutual obsession over Nie Mingjue. Meng Yao keeping his head in his treasure room. there are lots of jokes about how LXC is left out of the get-along coffin, but can we talk about the fact that Huaisang sacrificed his moral compass, the reputation of his sect, the life of a troubled teenager, and 10+ years of his life all so he could free his brother's mutilated body from Jin Guangyao's clutches... and at the end of it all, Jin Guangyao is the one who will be with him for eternity?

in conclusion: I love them, your honor.

#nie huaisang #jin guangyao #the untamed

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enbyfvcker · 5 months ago

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"Come back home."

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: a part two continuation from this from @psychohoneywhiskey because it rented a whole fucking condo in my head.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Hurt/comfort, angst, fighting, fluff, kissing, happy ending, Wade needs a hug, Logan needs a hug.

Wade only got home when the sun was already rising. His suit was all torn up, and some wounds still healed from the fight he just had with some stubborn criminals.

He expected to see Logan sleeping on the couch, but he didn't.

Well, maybe he decided to sleep in his bed?

He walks to his bedroom with expectation but also finds it empty.

Actually, not entirely empty.

In his bed layed all the clothes Wade bought Logan folded. All the little thoughtful gifts he gave him. Everything that Wade got him to say through actions that he's wanted.

Looks like the message didn't land.

His heart tightens, tears welling in his eyes as he realizes that Logan left him.

Left after being willing to sacrifice himself for Wade. Left after making this crack house he lived in into a home. Left after letting Wade convince him to stay sober after decades. Left after stealing his way into Wade's heart, his life, his family.

And just like that, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴. Without nothing with him but his suit.

Honestly, Wade doesn't think he should be surprised for this. He knew it was going to happen. He knew Logan was just waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him. Who would ever put up with him? God, if he could escape from himself sometimes, he would. He tried many times, too.

So could he even blame him, really?

In that moment, all the words Logan spat at him in that Honda Odyssey at the middle of a god forsaken void came back into his mind. They have been constantly in the past weeks.

He did feel like a ridiculous sad joke. He wanted nothing more than to be able to die alone because at least it meant he would just 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. That his attempts wouldn't just be self-harm anymore and that when he tried blowing himself up, he wouldn't just regenerate back.

He couldn't keep his job. Couldn't keep Vanessa. Couldn't keep Logan. If it weren't for Logan, he wouldn't be able to keep his fucking universe.

He'd never be an anchor being. He'd never make a difference or matter, so why would anyone stay?

He sobbed as he held one of Logan's shirts, burying his face into it and desperately trying to smell any remaining scent of him.

Mary Puppins walks in, her tongue out as she turns her head to the side, looking up at Wade with sad eyes.

"What's all that damn noise? Did you stub your toe again?" Al walks in wearing a sleeping robe and her sunglasses, apparently having awakened from Wade's ugly crying.

"Hey, Al..." Wade just sniffles, his voice broken as he just chooses to ignore her question.

"What happened?"

"Logan left..."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Guess I'm that insufferable that he couldn't stand spending another minute with me."

"He spent whole months with you, Wade."

"Sure, but did he even have a choice? I basically kidnapped him and threw him in a fucking new universe. I'm like an old creepy guy in a van. He was just waiting for a chance to run off. And he did."

"Come here, let's get you some tea." Al gestures for Wade to follow her to the kitchen, and he does, taking the shirt in his hands with him.

"Actually, I could use some cocaine right now. And you could use the cure for blindness to see how heartbroken I am for tea." He remarks, following behind her, dogpool following Wade. "Try not to break any cups this time."

Al puts sets a kettle in the stove and turns it on as Wade sits on a chair, all droopy and his eyes red.

"Did he take anything with him? Any money? Clothes? How do you know he won't just come back?"

"No, nothing. He must be wandering the streets like a lost puppy right now. And I just know."

"I think you boys are just too stupid to communicate properly. If you talked about this shit-"

"Oh, he talked plenty, believe me. He ran his mouth about how much of a joke I am."

"Oh, cut the self-loathing crap. That was before then. You two have been acting like an old married gay couple for the last months, don't give me that. You don't see the way he looks at you."

"Oh, and you do?!"

"I don't have to see it to know that guy would throw himself in the fire for you. If he ran off, then it's probably because the idiot read your sad little kitten act like a sign he's not welcomed."

"What-"

"Shut up. Now, if you don't grow a pair of balls for once and try to find him, I sweat to god-"

"I wouldn't even know where to look. And I doubt it he'd even want me to."

"So you better start right away. Go."

"What about my tea-"

"Go."

...

The last few days were rough. And that's saying something, considering all Logan went through in his universe.

He didn't have a place to stay anymore, so he just wandered around and got from bar to bar. He didn't have any cash on him, so he would flash his claws out to the barman as a threat when he was asked about his bill.

He felt like a goddamn monster, so why not act like it. He's not proud of it, but it's been months he didn't have a drink, and all he wanted was to drown the overwhelming feelings eating at him.

He got banned from multiple bars, always hopping to the next one. Getting drunk, getting in some fights, wandering around...

He felt like he was back in his universe. He felt so fucking stupid to think maybe he could change. That maybe here he could turn the page, start a new life with Wade.

Turns out the place it's not the problem, he's the fucking problem. He's a disease that destroys everything he touches, and he should know better than to try and have any connection with anyone.

He failed everyone. He failed the X-men by not being there. He failed Charles by going into a murderous spree. He failed Laura by not being the right guy. He failed Wade by being the complete jerk he is.

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he left. He's smelling bad, and his hair is mess, but all he cares right now is finishing one more bottle. Then, one more, and one more, and...

He feels something - someone - poking him. Logan thinks it may be the barman or the manager, so he pulls his claws out. "Look, bub, I-"

"Heya, Peanut. Gosh, I'm getting deja-vu. Ain't ya?" Logan's eyes focus to see Wade standing next to him wearing his suit and mask, and his heart races quickly. "You're a hard one to find, honey badger. And I'm a mercenary, so-"

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Save it, bub. I gave you an easy way out. You should have taken it."

"Come on, let's just talk-"

"Not in the fucking mood." Logan grumbles, suddenly feeling his chest too tight and like the walls were closing on him. He stumbles while getting off the chair and heading outside with heavy steps, hearing an angry voice behind the counter as he leaves without paying.

He walks out of the bar, rushing somewhere through the empty street, nightly darkness everywhere. Where? Where the fuck was he rushing to?

He hears a bell noise and other footsteps behind him.

"Fine! I get it, alright?! I'm the worst damn piece of crap that you could possibly be stuck with! You were right, ok? I'm everything you said I am. I'd run off, too." Wade shouts, his broken voice making Logan halt in his steps. "But at least let me return the favor of you saving my universe. Let me try and find you somewhere where you don't have to deal with me-"

"It was never about that." Logan grunts, his heart aching like it was about to break.

How could Wade possibly think it was about that?

"What?"

"I'm poison, bub." Logan sighs, finally turning around. "I destroy everything I touch. I hurt everyone around me, I hurt you. I don't deserve you taking me in. I don't deserve your affection or your family. I shouldn't have thought that there was more to my life than being the miserable monster I am and living with the consequences of my own actions. You got the worst you could possibly have, Wade. I'm just doing you the favor of retracting myself before I fuck everything up beyonde repair." Logan could feel his throat tight like a knot as he fought back stubborn tears.

Wade was stunned, silent for a few seconds before he took off his mask and gave Logan the most puppy dog eyes he ever saw, his eyes glossy with tears matching his own.

"You're an fucking idiot." Wade simply stated, a sad smile in his lips. "You're not a monster. And you're far from the worst I could have. I owe my whole world to you. I know you think I'm a joke, but I couldn't ask for a better-"

"I don't think you're a joke." He interrupted.

"But... in the Honda Odyssey, back at the void..." Wade replies, hearing a chuckle that held nothing but sadness.

Fuck. It never came to Logan's mind that what he said that day actually stuck to Wade. He is an idiot. Those words felt so distant, so different from what he felt now for the merc. After all those months they lived together, getting all domestic and shit. Wade crawled into his heart that had felt dead for years and got a space there.

"That was before, bub. I didn't even really know you, of course now I don't think that shit I said."

"But you did... Back then." Wade looks down, his voice low.

"I'm sorry..." Logan says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "You didn't deserve that. I was a jerk. I still am, but... You make me want to be better, bub. It's stupid, but... You kidnapping me was probably the best thing that ever happened to me in years, and I was just... so scared I fucked it up too, like everything else."

Wade chuckles, and his eyes brighten as he looks at Logan, his heart feels lighter at hearing those words.

"You didn't." Wade gets closer, his hand resting at Logan's shoulder. "You're wanted. Loved."

The care and gentleness in Wade's touch melts Logan, he leans closer too.

"Come back home."

Those words alone broke him.

For so long, he didn't have a home. How could he have ever taken this one for granted?

"Alright, bub."

It was like clockwork when their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, them holding each other closely as if they both feared the other would disappear into thin air any second. It felt so natural. Their hearts were calm and frantic at the same time.

Suddenly, there were fireworks sounds and colorful lights surrounding them, and they could hear people chanting happily in the background.

𝘖𝘩.

So it was New Year's already.

They kept their lips together for a few seconds as fireworks popped and formed colorful patterns in the sky. When they pulled away, their eyes were filled with longing and pure affection.

"You're stinky." Wade comments with a smile even though he keeps Logan close. Logan chuckles.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Come on. Let's get you home and make you a nice warm bath, peanut. Blind Al and Mary Puppins are missing you." Wade says while putting his arms around Logan's waist as he guides him their way home.

"Just them?"

"No." Wade replies. "Not just them."

#deadpool and wolverine #deadclaws #poolverine #wade x logan #wade wilson #logan howlett #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #x men #marvel #deadpool 3 #deadpool x wolverine

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yanderes-galore · 7 months ago

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Heyyyy can I request romanticly Lloyd Garmadon×reader, Prompts 1 and 4 because I can really see Lloyd also being an yandere who would sacrifice the world for their darlin

I didn't realize how much trauma Lloyd went through until I watched a video on it... Oml man is NOT okay.....

Yandere! Lloyd Garmadon Prompts 1 + 4

"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you."

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Unhealthy coping mechanisms/attachment, Threats, Clingy behavior, Kidnapping, Attachment issues, Dubious turned forced relationship.

The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth

Lloyd has never experienced proper love. Lloyd hasn't even experienced a proper childhood. He was instead forced to take the mantle of hero at a young age... forced to fight evils no normal person should face...

Of course he wasn't going to be okay.

Lloyd's biggest fear is becoming like his father. He knows he's done horrible things in the past and he still can't forgive himself. He's witnessed many he's cared about die... He's watched himself harm others.

So, of course, the moment he feels anything positive... It's normal to latch on, right?

When Lloyd met you, he was hesitant to get attached. He's so used to being used or watching those he cares about get hurt.... The moment you're kind he panics a bit.

But over time... Your kindness feels genuine.

It's the one thing he's always wanted... Genuine love.

Love to someone who has never had it is an addicting thing. It's such a foreign yet familiar thing to him. Yours is so warm and sweet.

However... The problem with addiction is this...

Addicts will do anything to get another hit.

Lloyd's attachment to you was because you paid attention to him. You saw past his heroic acts... and his not so heroic acts.... Lloyd felt you saw him for himself.

Unfortunately... It didn't seem like you were ready for his strengthening attachment.

You saw Lloyd as a friend. Maybe even a sibling due to what he's gone through. You wanted to comfort him... support him...

But it seems you were just making him worse....

To Lloyd, it didn't matter what happened to him or anyone else when it came to you. As he was around you, he found himself unable to be away from you. Even when you asked for distance... He was unable to give it.

Why would you want distance anyways...? Is he not good enough? Does he scare you? Are you going to leave him?

He'd do anything to prevent that.

The moment you try to drift away or distance yourself, Lloyd just tugs you back. He's never far from you. He's always dedicated... scared you'll leave if he doesn't.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

He says such words like a prayer to you. Like it's a promise he'd come back no matter what you did. You were not a fool to his feelings... You just knew you could never reciprocate them.

He'd never stop loving you though.

It didn't matter how you loved him. Lloyd would always love you. As long as you give him attention, as long as you look at him, he'll take anything.

He'll be forever loyal...

He'll sacrifice anything...

As long as you're there to hold him. As long as you won't ever leave. As long as you're his...

He could care less how you see him... and he could care less if the world suffers for it at this point.

Lloyd may be a hero. However, to him, you always come first. Lloyd doesn't know what he'd do without you.

He'd sacrifice anything and everything if it meant you'd be all his. He'd cling to you even more if it meant he'd secure you. It didn't matter what it took...

"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you." Lloyd had said that to you to show you his desperation. You had suggested to take a break from one another, to be away from each other. The implication hurt...

Yet Lloyd was willing to wait as long as it took... and sacrifice everything... just to keep you to himself one way or another.

Sure, you can have some space for now... but he'll always be back by your side eventually.

Doesn't he deserve something good for once? Doesn't he deserve to be selfish? He's been forced to be hero for so long....

Lloyd's biggest fear is no longer becoming his father. His biggest fear is being alone. When you threaten to put distance between you and him...

Suddenly... being a bit of a villain doesn't seem so bad... Maybe he should just... drag you to be beside him forever...

As long as it means he's never alone... maybe he should give into his villainous roots.

#yandere ninjago #yandere lego ninjago #yandere lloyd garmadon

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qin-qin16 · 11 months ago

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SWEET SWEET LOVE

Summary: book tropes with Cross, Error and Ink!

cw.: 0.6 k content: sfw, short headcanons, hurt/comfort, everyone gets a happy ending… unless?, depressive thoughts in Error’s part, but nothing extreme! note: i really don’t know how to end headcanons, but have fun anyway! Error's part was inspired by this post!

Cross - you fell first, he fell harder + dog poetry

You always compared Cross to a dog, one of those who trust in nothing and no one;

They bark, they bite, they hurt anyone who crosses their path. No one wants to get close to a dog like that;

However, you began to see more than just that wild layer that Cross seemed to want to display. Behind all that anger, all that hatred towards everything and everyone, the deep envy of happy worlds, you managed to see the pain, the fear of never being able to live happily again after so many sacrifices;

And, just like a dog, Cross just needed to learn to trust again, and of course, you were willing to be the one to teach him;

Both of you had to be patient—and you also had to be very understanding during Cross's outbursts of feelings or the moments when he wanted to be alone;

It wasn't easy, but God, how worth it it was after all this time;

As you like to say: you fell in love first, but Cross fell harder in love;

It was like having a poorly trained guard dog: he would do anything to protect you. Bites, growls, endless fights if it meant your safety;

He wouldn't lose you, not like he lost everyone else;

And if not losing you meant acting like a dog, he would act.

Error - Soulmates + second chance

Before Error became, well, Error, you knew him as Sans;

Souls intertwined across different multiverses, but after a long time, they managed to find each other again — even after Sans' death and his afterlife state (Geno);

For a long time, you lived like this: a love between a ghost and a living, souls that should not have been separated by death;

However, something changed. Overnight, he simply disappeared;

No more gentle touches, no more whispered promises before sleep, no more starry nights where only the two of you were witnesses to your love;

Any mere memory of him was like digging a hole deeper and deeper, a hole that, no matter how much you dug, seemed to have no end;

So, was this what it was like to lose a soulmate?

But even as this emptiness consumed you more and more, something deep within your SOUL would not let you give up, an unknown determination that refused to let you believe Sans had vanished forever;

And your SOUL was right... well, partly right;

Sans was indeed alive, but no longer as Sans;

Again, something happened, and now you found yourself facing Error who, with great insistence, claims to be your former boyfriend;

And even though your SOUL was telling you that yes, that was the Sans you knew, are you willing to give it a second chance?

Whether he knows your answer or not, Error would not lose you again.

Ink - Enemies to friends

Your first impression of Ink was far from pleasant;

The disgust you felt for him at the moment was only surpassed by anger when he vomited black ink on your new shoes — and to top it off, he barely apologized, just turned and vanished behind another ink stain;

Obviously, a presence as striking as Ink's wouldn't be easily forgotten by you, and sure enough, when he appeared in front of you again, you wanted to make him eat those same shoes (now permanently stained with ink);

But to your surprise, he had returned to learn more about your universe (something he would explain much later what it meant);

As much as you detested the idea of serving as a tour guide for someone like him, an airhead who had no consideration for anyone, you went along with it. After all, the sooner you started explaining how your universe worked, the sooner he would leave;

Through ups and downs, you ended up softening your heart towards Ink. Even though his lack of personal space sometimes irritated you, you could see a certain fascination in him every time he talked about universes and art, and whether you liked it or not, you also felt sorry for him for not having a soul;

And like a great (new) friend, he even promised to take you to other universes to explore and have fun — what could possibly go wrong?

#undertale #sans #sans x reader #character x reader #cross sans #cross x reader #error x reader #ink x reader #error sans #ink sans #sans x y/n #qinqin stuff 💖

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drratiosstudent · 2 months ago

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On the Kremnoan language, its reflection of Kremnoan culture, and the way Mydei expresses himself with the language of action, not words

I know it’s a running gag that the Kremnoan language lacks a lot of words for some of the more emotional, ‘heartfelt’ or ‘vulnerable’ things such as ‘romance’ or ‘fear’ or ‘weakness’ or ‘chickening out’ (I forgot how many words they’ve mentioned, or if I actually quoted the right words) etc. + Taking into consideration all the jokes between Phainon and Mydei on the words that aren’t in the Kremoan language/dictionary.

But if you think about it, even in real life, language reflects a culture; it is deeply intertwined with society, impacted by its own culture and values, and in turn, influences society again, like a cyclical influence. Perhaps to the Kremoans, the most important language (a form of expression) is not through words but through actions.

Why do they need a word to express their love, their fear, their anger, their hatred, their pain, their sorrows - when they can show it through action or through battle? Of course, considering how their main values are strife, strength and dominion, it is inevitable that action/battle takes precedence before all else. But think about it: Fight for glory, for love of their nation, for protection, for pride, for honour, for fear; Sacrifice for something greater than themselves, for family, for friends, for the future.

Just like how Gorgo sacrificed herself for her son, how Mydei’s parents understood each other through battle, how Mydei himself shows his care and love for his people through his choices and actions -

Although Mydei is a man of few words, anybody can tell that he has one of the warmest, gentle and kindest nature. He doesn’t need words to show people that he cares for them, he doesn’t need words to express his fears, he doesn’t need words to convey his anger and values. Anybody can tell who he is just by looking at the choices and actions he has made. In my opinion, he is one of the most authentic and genuine person we’ve seen so far. Many characters we’ve seen so far have their own secrets, masks, agendas - but with Mydei? He may speak less than the others, he may not easily say words that are ‘emotional’ or ‘weak’, and he may seem harsh on the outside, but you can definitely feel his warmth, concern, and care without his words.

There may be no words for expressing certain emotions or vulnerabilities in the Kremoan language, but that’s likely because the Kremnoans are people who speak the language of action. That’s also what makes Mydei himself + his relationship with all the other Chrysos Heirs, his people and companions so compelling. You can read into his relationship and feelings for others well beyond his words, and you can read into his true values and principles. You can see what he fights for, what he’s scared of, when he’s willing to seek help and guidance, when he respects others - with Mydei, you don’t need words to know he trusts you.

For Mydei, he has shown his love for the people and Amphoreus by fighting the black tide, protecting the citizens, giving advice to others, supporting the children, cooking his food, supporting his companions, trusting his friends -

To Mydei, words aren’t required to express himself, and perhaps, words aren’t enough to express just how much he cares.

Yes, the Kremnoan culture has its distinct flaws, and its people have done some horrendous things in the past all for strife, honour and strength. But I think Mydei represents the virtues of his culture, when things aren’t taken too far - when you fight to protect instead of for ‘dominion’, ‘strife’, and so called ‘honour’, when you train hard to become strong so that you can support others, when you learn to face your fears, all so you can help others; when you learn to persevere, to be resilient, to fight for your life, because that will help you survive and live the life you wish to live with your companions.

#I bet that when Mydei does speak his truth #It hits even harder #Imagine him stating his emotions in words omg I think everyone would pause for a second #Anyways #Just some ramblings about Kremnoan language and culture because it’s just so interesting #and it made me think about language and culture in real life #I studied it a little at one point in high school #about language #and how it’s intertwined and shaped by culture and society #And how it influences the way we think #and how people who speak multiple languages may act differently when they speak different languages #Mydei #Mydeimos #HSR #Honkai Star Rail #WinterLEThoughts #Sighs I really want to pull for him but my Stellar JADES #Look I’ve been grinding but I have a busy life too I can only GRIND SO MUCH #Can I wake up to a million jades #WinterLE_HSR

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henryhengli · 9 days ago

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Working It Out

A post-8x16 BuckTommy reconciliation story

Author's Note: The first part of my first ever fic! I honestly never thought that I'd write something like this, but my pookies are deeply affecting to me right now, so I gave it a shot. Go easy on me! Feedback is very much welcome. I'm planning on this being a three-part story, and done by the time 8x17 comes out. All of it will go on Ao3 when my account is approved (like I said, never thought I'd be doing this). Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

Part 1: Numb

Everything was dimmer after Bobby died. The sun shone a little weaker. The glint in everyone’s eyes was gone. Color had drained from the trees, from the rocks, from the signs lining the streets. The nights were darker, longer. Everything was sluggish, effortful. Waking up, going to sleep. It was all more difficult than it ever had been.

Hold it together.

Buck sighed. He had been doing that a lot. He closed his eyes for a moment, wincing, trying to tune out the world for a moment so he could collect himself. They were en route to a call, Hen, Chim, interim Captain Gerrard, and himself sitting in a palpable silence. No one was looking at each other, the members of the 118 arrested in a perpetual daze.

None of us should be working right now, Buck thought to himself.

But life goes on. It had to, for their own sakes. Even in this joyless, grey-scale world, they had jobs to do. People to help. Duties to carry out. Buck knew that, that he had a duty to the rest of the 118.

They’re gonna need you.

Those words, that Bobby had given him right at the end, hung heavy. They were the last orders Bobby would ever give him, and Buck had no intention of disobeying these like he had so many before. So he had grit his teeth, put on a brave face, done whatever he had to do to make himself the rock that his family needed. Even if that meant he could barely remember anything that had happened these past few weeks, even if that meant lying to his loved ones that he was okay, he was willing to make that sacrifice.

Buck sighed again. The things I’d do for you, Bobby.

They pulled up to the scene, an old power station on the outskirts of the city. Abandoned and scheduled for decommissioning, it had apparently become something of a hideout for some idiot teens trying to get away from it all.

Can’t say I don’t know the feeling.

The fire was massive, smoke billowing high into the night sky. Several stations were involved in the operation; several trucks and assorted emergency vehicles amassed in a perimeter around the building. As Buck slid out from the truck, he heard helicopters overhead, running air support. Yet another sigh. His eyes went glassy for a moment, causing him to quickly blink any tears away before they could form.

God, I can’t think about him right now.

Tommy. If Buck was being honest, he hadn’t thought about him at all. How could he? What possible bandwidth could he have to ponder where he stood with that man? They hadn’t spoken since that night in the chopper.

And for you, Tommy had said.

Buck rolled his eyes at the memory. That line was out of a movie. Those kinds of heroics weren’t exciting anymore, not to this Buck. The Buck that had been excited, been so happy and so invested in the relationship he had with Tommy, been devastated by the breakup, who had to pull out all the stops to restrain himself from texting him every day since, who had gone against all his better judgement inviting him to his place that night, and had called him when he needed help…he was dead. Or at the very least, that all felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. This new world Buck was living in…it didn’t have room for emotions like that.

Buck barely remembered seeing him at the funeral. Buck barely remembered the funeral at all. Chim had asked Tommy to be a pallbearer, to have Bobby’s original team alongside the new one. A generous gesture, Buck thought, given what had gone down between them - the rest of the 118 didn’t hold Tommy in such high esteem after he had dumped Buck so unceremoniously. Chim had asked Buck if he was alright with it, and Buck had said he was - he didn’t have the energy to put up any kind of fight about it, or to even consider what his actual feelings were, whether this new life had room for Tommy in it or not. He was too exhausted to consider himself at all.

Buck squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to cut off the pain.

Now’s not the time. You have a job to do.

He gathered himself, his expression going vacant as he moved through his responsibilities like a zombie. He had done jobs like this a thousand times before, and this one was no different. Go through the motions, do your duty, and go home. He could tell his team was lacking, their minds scattered and hesitating. He had been doing his best to pick up their slack. If he didn’t, who would?

Two teens, a young couple who had been in the middle of some tryst when the wires went hot and started the fire, were trapped inside. Buck had his orders from Gerrard, and the extraction operation was underway. Given the electrically volatile nature of the site, only the main entrance was deemed safe enough to get inside.

“Buck, you with us?” Hen asked, a sympathetic look on her face.

She had had that expression plastered on ever since Bobby died. Buck could see the pain behind her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Liar.

Buck swallowed the pang of guilt he felt and pressed on.

“Let’s get this done.”

They trudged forward into the blaze.

The call had come in late after the fire had started due to its relatively remote location - the building was already starting to crumble. Pillars were coming down, the ceiling had buckled in portions, and there was enough refuse strewn about to keep the blaze going.

What a pigsty this place must have been. Guess the fire is saving the city a clean-up job.

“They’ve already swept the ground floor, we need to get up top!” Buck barely registered the words his team was shouting, or who they were coming from.

Second floor, got it.

“The stairs look intact! I’m heading up!” Buck shouted back. He started to make his way over to a side stairwell, his eyes trained on the floor for any live-wire debris. Hugging the wall, he headed up the stairs, treading carefully and testing each step to ensure he didn't accidentally fall through.

“Fire Department! Call out!” He shouts through the haze of smoke.

“Here! We’re here!”

He hears a young woman’s voice coming from down the second-floor hallway.

“My boyfriend, he’s- he’s passed out! I don’t know if he’s breathing!”

“Hear that, Hen?” Buck calls down. “I’ve got someone for you!”

“I’ll be standing by for resuscitation,” she says cooly, all business.

Moving towards the voices, he spots a door at the end of the hallway slightly ajar. Inside, he finds two teens, huddled in the corner of the room, behind some file cabinets. The girl is holding her legs close to her body, clearly in terror at her present situation. The boy is flat on the ground, eyes closed and mouth agape. Buck heads towards him first, kneeling down to hoist him over a shoulder. He motions towards the girl.

“Can you walk?”

She nods her head, shaken but not catatonic.

“Follow me.”

He heaves the unconscious young man and grabs the girl's arm, pulling her out of the room. Buck heard rumbling from overhead. The roof was rapidly losing stability, liable to come crashing down soon.

For fuck’s sake.

Buck didn’t have the energy for this. With the kid on his shoulder and worrying about electrocution between himself and the girl, he was barely hanging in there as it was. He guided them down the stairwell, back to the ground floor. He heard crumbling from above and behind him moments later.

Just make it out. Just make it out. Just a little further. Do it for the team. Do it for Bobby. Just a little further.

The heat was getting overwhelming and the foundations of the building were completely spent. Buck eyed a particularly nasty crack in the ceiling that was quickly spreading above them.

“We’re gonna need to pick up the pace here!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Just a little more!”

He was talking to himself as much as he was the girl.

“Copy my movements!”

Chim and Hen were up ahead, ducking under wires and stepping over debris, Buck following close behind, trying his best to communicate where it was safe to stand. The entrance slowly came into view. Buck glanced back up at the ceiling.

“It’s gonna come down any second! Take them!”

He shrugged off the boy, Hen firmly wrapping a hand under his knees and the other under his back.

“Go on ahead! Follow him!”

He pointed urgently to Chim.

“O-OK!”

The girl let go of his hand and trepidatiously went ahead of Buck.

Bring up the rear. Gotta make sure they’re alright.

Buck noticed himself slowing down a bit, his strength leaving him. Just then, there was a boom overhead. The roof had come down, landing on the first floor ceiling. The crack grew tremendously, the tiles holding on for a moment - then it came down. Buck was completely cut off from the others, and from the entrance.

“Buck! Are you still there!” Chim’s voice was heavily muffled by the rubble.

Fuck.

“I’m here! I-I’m OK!” Buck did his best to shout, his voice hoarse.

“I’ll look for another way!”

Where? This whole place is a death trap. I’m not even buying my own bullshit at this point.

“No! Stay put! We’ll clear the entrance!”

“There’s no time! Get clear!”

Get clear.

“Buck!”

Fuck off, Chim. Get the kids and get out. Be safe.

Buck winced and closed his eyes again. He had been doing that a lot lately, too. Shoving down the guilt he felt about that particular intrusive thought, he turned around, scanning what was left of the ground floor for something, anything. The windows were shot, wires had come apart everywhere - there were no other options. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and headed back in towards the flames.

Through what remained of what must have once been the lobby, he came upon a bank of elevators in the back corner. Most of them were shut, but one of the shafts’ doors were slightly bent, and a gap was large enough for Buck to squeeze his arm through and pry them open. The shaft was empty, and shining his flashlight down, Buck could see a basement floor beneath him.

The fire started upstairs - this might be insulated enough. Let's hope the elevator isn’t in service.

He chuckled to himself humorlessly, reaching out tentatively for the chord, giving it a tug to assess its worthiness at supporting himself and his gear. Behind him, more of the ceiling was coming down, landing with a great thud nervously close to his feet.

Good enough.

Taking the chord in his hand, he stepped off the edge, rappelling down into the darkness.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #911 spoilers #lou ferrigno jr #oliver stark #fanfic #bucktommy fic

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